


Comfort Zone

by LydiaBSlade



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ableist Language, Awkward First Times, BenArmie AU, Boot Worship, Boxing Day Tsunami references, Brendol Hux's A+ Parenting, Bugs, Come Marking, First Time Blow Jobs, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Premature Ejaculation, Referenced Non-Con Fantasy, Referenced Suicidal Thoughts, Referenced Suicide Attempt, References to War, Running Away, Semi-Public Sex, Toe-sucking, Travel, Underage Drinking, brief reference to sexual assault, cultural insensitivity, oh my god there was only one bed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:40:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 50,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26783797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LydiaBSlade/pseuds/LydiaBSlade
Summary: Hux is running away. He meets a tall, dark, and somewhat annoying stranger at the airport.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 151
Kudos: 328





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be self-indulgent fluff (and it is, mostly) but there are some potentially triggering references. Please mind the tags and see endnotes for detailed content warnings.

“So where are you headed?” 

Hux turns his head. He had been staring blankly at the departures board, his heart pounding, unable to make a decision - so many cities, each blinking red, each as foreign and inhospitable-sounding as the next. The stranger’s voice cuts through the combination of panic and numbness that has filled him like a fog since he came home and saw his open laptop waiting for him on the kitchen table, the screen frozen on _that_ video. “I don’t know,” he says, trying to sound calm. “I just need to get out of here as fast as possible.”

The stranger cocks his head, looking Hux over curiously. He’s tall, dressed in black, with a mess of shaggy dark hair around a pale, angular face; his big shoulders are hunched awkwardly under an enormous backpack. There are raccoon-like rings of smudged eyeliner around his dark eyes. And his sulky, full-lipped mouth is so red that it strikes Hux as vaguely improper, like something that shouldn’t be visible to the public. “I’m leaving for Bangkok in ninety minutes,” he says. “Is that fast enough for you?”

“Sure,” Hux says. _Bangkok,_ he thinks, _at least it’ll be warm there._ All he has with him is the thin jacket he had worn to school that pleasant fall day. “What airline?”

“Thai Airways.” The stranger jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “Ticket counter’s that way.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Hux moves off in the direction he had indicated. 

Somewhat to his alarm, the stranger follows him. “I’m Kylo,” he says, sticking out a big hand. 

“Hux,” Hux says automatically, then wonders if he should have come up with a fake name. “Kylo” sounds as if it might be fake, anyway. Kylo’s hand is very warm when he shakes it. It envelops Hux’s smaller hand entirely. Kylo holds on for a fraction of a second too long, his narrow, long-lashed eyes fixed on Hux’s face. There’s something unsettling about his gaze. Hux swallows hard, feeling goosebumps rise on the back of his neck.

At the ticket counter, Hux starts to offer Brendol’s stolen credit card to pay for his flight, then pulls it back when he realizes that the name on the card will be obviously different than the one on his passport. He pays cash instead. He looks into Brendol’s wallet afterwards: he has just over 40,000 won left. He wonders how far that might take him in Thailand. 

Kylo is waiting for him, shifting restlessly from one foot to the other. “So who’d you kill?” he asks, grinning at Hux, as they walk towards security. 

“Nobody, unfortunately,” Hux says frostily, “at least not yet.” He walks faster, but Kylo matches his stride.

“Come on,” Kylo says, elbowing him. “You’re desperate to get out of the country, you just bought a flight to Bangkok with cash, and when I first saw you you looked like you’d just seen a ghost. What’s going on? You can trust me.”

“I don’t even _know_ you.”

“Well, that’s what I’m trying to fix,” Kylo says easily. “You’re obviously American and you’ve got that haircut - are you stationed here in Seoul? Did you desert from the military? Are the MPs chasing you down?”

“ _No._ And what I’m doing is none of your business.”

“You’re coming to Thailand with me,” Kylo points out. “We might as well get to know each other.”

“You suggested Thailand as a possible destination and for some reason I agreed,” Hux says crossly. “But I’m not going there _with_ you.”

Kylo looks hurt. “Fine,” he snaps. “If you’re in some kind of trouble - I just wanted to help. But whatever.” He flounces off.

Moments later, they find themselves standing next to each other again in the line to go through security. Hux stares resolutely straight ahead. He can feel Kylo eyeing him. “Here,” Kylo says suddenly, thrusting a small piece of folded paper at him. “That’s my WhatsApp number and the guesthouse where I’m staying. Come find me if you do need help, okay?” 

Reluctantly, Hux takes the paper and puts it in his pocket. The reality of his situation - approximately forty dollars in cash, a stolen credit card that will immediately alert his father to his whereabouts if he tries to use it, and a plane ticket to a city where he’s never been - is beginning to overwhelm him. He debates just turning around and going home; maybe Phasma or Mitaka would let him stay with them for a few days. But their parents would undoubtedly feel obligated to tell his father where he was. “Okay,” he says to Kylo, “thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Kylo says, “now this is me leaving you alone.” He shuffles sideways a few feet.

Hux feels a laugh unexpectedly burbling up from his chest. “You don’t have to do that.”

Kylo looks at him. “I don’t have to leave you alone? Or I do, but I don’t have to do it from a distance?”

“Either way, I guess,” Hux says. He hesitates. “This place you’re staying in Bangkok - is it expensive?”

“No, it’s really cheap. About thirty dollars a night.”

 _Oh_ , Hux thinks. Somehow he had thought that Bangkok might be the sort of place where a person could easily get by on just a few dollars a day, but apparently not. Kylo is still looking at him.

“You know,” Kylo says, “if you need a place to stay, you can crash with me. I’m just bumming around. You can do whatever, it won’t bother me.” He grins. “And I won’t tell the MPs.”

Hux peers suspiciously at Kylo, wondering what he might want in exchange. He imagines Kylo demanding that Hux suck his cock - or - or something even more depraved - and realizes, with a guilty little shiver, that the idea is more exciting than frightening. After all, if he _has_ to do it... 

“Thanks,” Hux says, trying to sound casual. “Out of curiosity, do you make a habit of inviting murderers and deserters back to your hotel room?” The elderly man in the line ahead of them glances nervously at Hux over his shoulder. It occurs to Hux that the way he had worded his question might have sounded as if he thought Kylo was hitting on him, and he feels his face go hot. 

Kylo laughs. “I’ve been traveling on my own for a while now. Gets kind of lonely.” He winks at Hux. “I’m willing to take a chance on a mysterious stranger.”

 _Now what does that mean?_ Hux thinks helplessly as he takes off his shoes.

On the plane, Hux finds himself in a middle seat, sandwiched between a middle-aged married couple who silently pass Tupperware containers of pungent-smelling food back and forth to each other over his lap. Both of them have taken Hux’s armrests. The husband is playing some sort of easy-listening music so loudly through his headphones that Hux can hear every note.

When the plane levels out at altitude, Hux clambers out over the husband - he had tried to excuse himself, but the man didn’t move - and makes his way up the aisle towards Kylo’s tousled dark head. The flight seems like a good opportunity to determine whether or not Kylo is a serial killer before they’re alone in a hotel room together, he decides.

Kylo is wearing an enormous pair of padded headphones, but he pulls off one side and looks pleased when he sees Hux hovering over him. “I’ve got an empty seat next to me,” he says invitingly.

“Thanks,” Hux says, squeezing past him to sit down. In spite of his serial-murder-related concerns, there’s something about the way Kylo looks at him that makes this trip feel less like a desperate escape and more like an adventure. He thinks briefly about how thoroughly Kylo’s eyeliner and longish hair would enrage Hux’s father; _so much the better_ , he tells himself. “So you said you’ve been traveling on your own for a while? Are you just on vacation, or are you - like - “

“A spy?” Kylo asks. _I was going to say a trust-fund baby_ , Hux thinks. “No. It’s my gap year. My mother wanted me to take a year off before college. See the world, you know?”

“That’s extremely nice of her,” Hux says, trying and failing to imagine a world in which Brendol would even consider paying for Hux to spend an entire year traveling around doing nothing in particular.

“Well, I tried to kill myself last fall when everyone else was applying to college,” Kylo says breezily, “so I guess she figured going straight into college might not be the best idea for me.”

Hux winces. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he says stiffly. _I knew this was a bad idea_ , he thinks. But what other options does he really have?

Kylo’s dark, smudge-ringed eyes are scanning Hux’s face anxiously. “I’m okay now,” he says. “Don’t be scared of me.”

“I’m not,” Hux says indignantly. “I just - well, I just met you, that’s all.”

“Yeah. I just - I try to be straight-up with people, you know?” 

“Yes,” Hux says drily, “I definitely know that now.”

“Anyway,” Kylo says, more cheerfully, “I think traveling has been really great for me. Gets you out of your comfort zone. I’m like a shark, you know? I’ll die if I stop moving.”

Hux resists the urge to roll his eyes. He wants to say that that doesn’t seem like an especially sustainable way to live in the long term - but Hux’s own long-term plans have all just been upended anyway. Maybe Kylo has a point. “So where have you been so far?” Hux asks, trying to get back onto safer ground. 

“Just Japan and Korea so far,” Kylo says. “I’m a big anime fan, so I had to start in Japan, right?” _Of course you did_ , Hux thinks, once again wanting to roll his eyes. “But it wasn’t really what I was expecting. It was so beautiful, but I was kind of lonely, you know? I felt like I was horribly offending people everywhere I went without meaning to. I felt more comfortable in Korea actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. People seemed more chill, like they would just yell at me if I pissed them off instead of silently hating me like in Japan.” Hux laughs. “Plus I met some Marines in Seoul and that was really fun. They took me to this crazy club in Itaewon and then we all went hiking up this mountain at dawn while we were still drunk, it was awesome.” Kylo nudges Hux with his shoulder. “So can you at least tell me what you were doing in Seoul? Or is that classified too?”

Hux sighs. “My father is the USFK commander - that’s all US forces in Korea. He’s a four-star general.”

“Oh,” Kylo says, his eyes widening. “Well, don’t tell him about those Marines, I think they were breaking curfew or something. We saw some MPs at one point and the guys I was with ran out back to hide in an alley. Then they went back to screaming and doing shots of Jager.”

“That sounds like the Marines,” Hux says. “Anyway if I ever see my father again, those Marines are going to be the least of my worries, trust me.”

“Is it really bad with him?” Kylo reaches out as if to touch Hux, then seems to think better of it and pulls his hand back. Hux is suddenly very aware of the pressure of Kylo’s shoulder against his own. Kylo seems to be too large for his seat; his knees are pressed up uncomfortably against the seat in front of him, and his broad shoulders protrude on either side. Normally Hux would be annoyed to have a stranger intruding into his personal space on an airplane. But somehow he finds he doesn’t mind: it’s cold on the plane, for one thing, and even through his black layers Kylo’s body seems to radiate heat. 

Hux realizes that Kylo is still looking at him intently, waiting for an answer. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad,” he says. “He - well, he found something of mine that I didn’t want him to find. I’m pretty sure he was planning to kick the shit out of me when I got home, but I got out before he realized I was there.”

Kylo looks intrigued. He leans closer. Hux can smell him now - he smells good, like leather and clean laundry. “Can I ask what he found?”

Hux opens his mouth, then closes it again. Kylo’s full bitten lips are very close to his own. “No,” he says.

Kylo grins. “I’m going to assume it was, like, your secret unstoppable superweapon or something,” he says, “and that’s why you’re now an international fugitive. Or was it porn? It couldn’t just be porn, right? You wouldn’t flee the country just because of porn.”

Hux kicks him. “Shut up,” he hisses.

Kylo is laughing. “Oh my god,” he says, “it was porn, wasn’t it? Everyone jokes about fleeing the country if their parents walk in on them jerking off but you actually did it. Legendary. Absolutely legendary.”

“Shut up,” Hux says again, elbowing Kylo hard. He lowers his voice. “And he didn’t walk in on me jerking off. Thank God.”

“So what kind of porn was it?” Kylo whispers into Hux’s ear. “You can tell me.”

“We are not having this conversation,” Hux says firmly, trying to ignore the hot shiver that goes through him at the feeling of Kylo’s breath on his ear. He reminds himself that he’ll lose his place to sleep for the night if he makes Kylo uncomfortable. 

Kylo looks at Hux as if there’s something more he wants to ask. “Okay,” he says eventually, “have it your way. I’m going to sleep. Those Marines wore me out.” Something about the way he says this seems unnecessarily suggestive. He reclines his seat as far back as it will go - there’s an annoyed grunt from behind him - and closes his eyes.

Hux is half-asleep himself when he feels the warm weight of Kylo’s head droop onto his shoulder. He tenses, wondering whether to push him away. Kylo’s hair is silky against his cheek and the side of his neck, and his nearness soothes Hux’s panic-blasted nerves. Eventually he allows himself to relax into sleep, leaning against Kylo.

***

“I think you drooled on my head,” Kylo announces cheerfully some hours later, after the plane lands. 

“Sorry,” Hux says, mortified.

“It’s okay,” Kylo says, getting up and attempting to wrestle his enormous backpack out of the overhead compartment where, against all odds, he had managed to wedge it at the beginning of the flight. He flashes Hux that grin again. His teeth are slightly crooked and the canines seem to be larger and sharper than most people’s; the effect is slightly vampirical, but also oddly sweet. “You can drool on me whenever, I don’t mind.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Hux says, wondering if Kylo is attempting to flirt with him, or merely being odd. He reminds himself again not to risk the roof over his head for the sake of what might be only wishful thinking. “You’re definitely the first person to ever tell me that.”

“Awesome,” Kylo says, smirking. “I’m so proud to be your first.” 

_That sounds like he’s flirting with me, doesn’t it?_ Hux thinks, but this is distinctly not his area of expertise. He’s always done his best to avoid the few girls who seemed as if they might have been interested in him, and the boys he finds attractive - the captain of the baseball team, the guys he sees doing tricks in the skatepark near his school - are so far out of his orbit as to be more hypothetical than human. 

As they step out of the air-conditioned airport, the heat and humidity break over Hux like a wave. It’s after midnight and the October day had been pleasantly crisp in Korea, but in Bangkok it still seems to be in the eighties. Between the hot wind and the weird glaring light that shines from an enormous statue of a white elephant in the distance, Hux feels as if he’s just landed on another planet. If he were alone, he reflects, he would be entirely overwhelmed. He’s so grateful for Kylo’s company that it embarrasses him. 

Kylo, meanwhile, has yanked off his leather jacket and his sweatshirt, and is now wearing only a tight black tank top over his equally skintight jeans. Hux’s face goes hot as his eyes fix on Kylo’s muscular arms and chest. He forces himself to look away before Kylo notices. 

“I just realized,” Kylo says, once they’re sitting in the backseat of a taxi that is speeding along a vast dark highway towards the neon lights of the city, “I don’t even know if ‘Hux’ is a first name or a last name. And, uh, how old are you?”

“My first name is Armitage,” Hux says, “but no one calls me that except my father. And I turned eighteen a few weeks ago.”

“Oh good,” Kylo says, sounding exceedingly relieved. “I just remembered you said something about coming home from school and I was like... shit, I hope I didn’t just kidnap an unusually tall fifteen-year-old.”

Hux laughs. “No. I’m a senior in high school. My mother didn’t want me to start kindergarten too early; I was small for my age.”

“Can I ask - does your mom know what’s going on with you?” Kylo asks. “She wouldn’t be okay with this, would she?”

“She’s dead,” Hux says flatly. “She died in a car accident when I was in second grade. I think it happened because she was trying to get away from my father. Although he has told me several times that she left because she was tired of taking care of me.”

“What the fuck,” Kylo says furiously, staring at Hux. His eyes are huge and dark in the dim light. “What the fuck - on every level. What kind of massive dickhead says something like that to his kid?”

“That’s my father for you,” Hux says tiredly. He pauses. “I don’t know why I just told you that. I don’t normally talk to anyone about this sort of thing - but, well, it’s been a strange day.”

“You can talk to me about anything you want,” Kylo says, still staring intensely at Hux. He moves suddenly - Hux flinches - and puts his arm around Hux’s shoulders. “And you don’t ever have to go back to see that asshole again, unless you feel like it. You can stay with me as long as you want.”

 _Unless your mother decides to stop paying for all of this_ , Hux thinks. “I’m not really in the market for a knight in shining armor,” he says, “but - I appreciate it.”

“Fine, I won’t be your knight in shining armor,” Kylo says. His arm around Hux’s shoulders is warm and comforting. Under normal circumstances Hux would push Kylo away, but these are highly unusual circumstances. “Can I be your designated protective goth instead?”

Hux laughs. “The kind that sacked Rome, or the kind that hangs out in cemeteries listening to sad music?”

“I can do both, I have range.”

“Well, in that case,” Hux says, breathing in the faint scent of Kylo’s sweat as the alien landscape of downtown Bangkok flashes by outside, “I’ll allow it.” 

***

The guesthouse is dark and silent when they arrive; even the birds in the cages outside the front door are asleep. “Hello?” Kylo calls, as they step into the lobby. He pulls a Lonely Planet phrasebook out of his backpack. “ _Sawat dee khrap_?”

An exhausted-looking woman with long disheveled hair suddenly rises up like a ghost from behind the front desk, where she had apparently been sleeping on the floor. Kylo and Hux both yelp, startled. 

Kylo shows her something on his phone, and she hands him a room key. “Mee WiFi mai?” Kylo asks, looking at his phrasebook again. She points silently to a sign over her head, where the WiFi password is written. “Oh,” Kylo says, “thanks. _Khawp-khun khrap._ How do you say ‘Internet’ in Thai, by the way?”

She looks at him as if she wishes she could disintegrate him into particles with her eyes. “In-ter-net,” she says, very slowly and clearly. Hux laughs. 

Kylo flushes. “I guess I should’ve figured that,” he says. “Uh, thanks. We’ll leave you alone now.” 

“Mmm,” she responds, disappearing behind the desk again. 

Upstairs, their room is spacious and mostly unfurnished, except for a single enormous bed. Kylo clears his throat. “Sorry,” he says, “I always ask for a king-size bed, and I didn’t think to change the reservation when you decided to come with me. And, uh, I think that lady downstairs might strangle me if I wake her up again. Are you okay with this?”

“It’s fine,” Hux says, trying to ignore the way his stomach flutters at the idea of sharing at bed with Kylo. _Don’t do anything stupid, don’t get yourself kicked out_ , he thinks. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay on my side. I won’t bother you.”

“Trust me, I wasn’t worried,” Kylo says. “I just didn’t want you to freak out. Anyway, I’m gross - I can’t go to sleep like this. You want the first shower before I get in there?”

“I don’t have anything clean to change into anyway,” Hux says. He had grabbed only his passport and Brendol’s wallet before he bolted out the door. “You might as well go ahead.”

“I have clean clothes I can lend you,” Kylo says. “If you need anything, if I’m asleep or not here or whatever, just dig around in my backpack. You’re welcome to use whatever I have.”

Hux stares hard at Kylo. Kylo is kneeling on the floor by his bag, yanking out armfuls of black clothing, apparently looking for something that might fit Hux. His biceps flex distractingly as he moves. “I have to ask,” Hux says after a moment, “why are you being so nice to me? Honestly. You don’t know me. You don’t owe me anything.” _What do you want from me?_

Kylo stops rifling through his bag and stares back at Hux; he seems to be considering the question very seriously. Eventually he says, “I always have this problem with feeling like everything I do is meaningless and nothing matters. You know? But then I ran into you, right when you needed help. I feel like that was fate or something.” His face takes on a kind of luminous intensity as he looks at Hux. “Like that was the point of me all along, my destiny, for me to be there and rescue you.”

 _So he is crazy_ , Hux thinks. _Wonderful._ But he doesn’t seem to be deranged in a way that poses an immediate threat to Hux, and in fact having a large, strong, and apparently rich crazy person decide that his life’s purpose is to protect Hux seems potentially rather more useful than otherwise. Especially under the circumstances. “I see,” he says warily. “I don’t really believe in fate, or any such thing, but - well, thank you for all your help.” 

Kylo cocks his head at Hux. “You think I’m nuts, don’t you.” 

“Oh, no, no,” Hux says hastily, “not at all.”

Kylo looks wounded. “It’s okay if you think I’m crazy,” he says. “Lots of people think I’m crazy. I just don’t want you to lie to me. I’m not your asshole dad, you know? I would never hurt you. I’m just a very passionate person.”

“So I see,” Hux says drily. Kylo’s psyche is far too much of a minefield for him to navigate at this hour of night, he thinks. Or possibly at any time. “Anyway, I’ll take those clean clothes, if you don’t mind.”

Kylo laughs. “Oh yeah,” he says, “right. I forgot.” He hands Hux a black t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. “Does that work for you to sleep in? I usually sleep naked, I don’t really have pajamas.”

“That’s fine,” Hux says in somewhat strangled tones, wondering how exactly to navigate sharing a bed with a naked Kylo. He retreats rapidly into the bathroom. Under the shower spray, behind a locked door, he jerks off hastily, trying not to think about Kylo, but it’s no use. “Now it’s time for you to pay me back,” he imagines Kylo saying as he shoves Hux’s head down below his belt. He wonders what Kylo’s cock would taste like, how thick it might be in his mouth. 

Kylo’s t-shirt hangs off Hux’s narrow shoulders like a tent, and his shorts cling just barely to the points of Hux’s hips, but the fabric is soft and comfortable and smells faintly of Kylo. Wearing these clothes makes Hux feel - owned, like another possession for Kylo to carry around in his enormous backpack. He can’t quite decide whether he likes the feeling or not. But when he comes out of the bathroom dressed that way, Kylo looks up at him with an enormous, sweet smile on his face, as though Hux in his oversized clothes is the most adorable thing he’s ever seen - and Hux admits to himself with some difficulty that he definitely likes that. 

Hux is in bed, mostly asleep, by the time Kylo finishes his shower. He cracks open an eye to peer at Kylo, who has emerged from the bathroom wearing only a pair of very short black boxer shorts as he towels his hair vigorously. Even in the faint light from the window, the sight of Kylo’s bare chest and muscular thighs is distinctly unhelpful to Hux’s efforts to calm down and sleep. He tries to tell himself that he isn’t disappointed when Kylo slides into bed - as far as possible from Hux - without taking off his shorts.

At some point, Hux stirs awake, feeling warm and comfortable, and realizes in a sudden rush that Kylo is wrapped around him from behind, breathing softly against his neck. For a moment he’s angry that Kylo would touch him in his sleep, even unintentionally. Then he realizes that, actually, he’s on Kylo’s side of the mattress. It’s surprisingly cold in the room - the rattling air conditioner is turned up to arctic levels - and there’s only a thin cotton blanket on the bed. Hux seems to have migrated in his sleep towards the only available heat source. 

Hux wriggles slightly, feeling that perhaps he should move before this situation becomes more embarrassing for either of them, but Kylo only tightens his grip on Hux and seals himself more firmly against Hux’s back. His bare skin feels scorchingly hot, almost as if he has a fever. It seems unlikely that Hux will be able to move off without waking him. Under the circumstances, Hux decides, the most courteous course of action is to remain where he is. Gradually he falls asleep again.

When he wakes up again, sunlight is pouring in through the window, and it’s hard to breathe: Kylo has rolled mostly on top of him, and he’s unmistakably hard. His cock is thick and hot against Hux’s ass. _Fuck_ , Hux thinks, deliriously, heat flaring along every nerve at the feeling. He squirms underneath Kylo, grinding his own erection down against the mattress. Kylo, who had been snuffling gently into Hux’s hair, lets out a small whimpering noise.

Then suddenly he wakes up. “Oh shit,” Kylo says frantically, “sorry. Fuck.” He vaults out of the bed and disappears into the bathroom before Hux can figure out how to respond. There’s a sound of water running. Hux squeezes his eyes shut, willing his cock to go soft, trying not to picture Kylo jerking off in the next room. 

Hux has mostly succeeded in calming himself down when Kylo steps out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. He doesn’t seem to have showered, however. His powerful arms and chest are even more distracting now that Hux can see them properly: Hux wants to grab his pecs with both hands, sink his fingers into them, get his mouth on them. He wonders if Kylo would like having his nipples pinched or bitten. Hux likes to pinch at his own nipples, sometimes, on those rare occasions when he feels secure enough to relax and enjoy getting himself off slowly. 

Kylo seems to have noticed him staring; he smirks, looking pleased with himself. Hux glances away hastily. Kylo clears his throat. “So, uh,” he says, “sorry about that. Earlier. I’m a pretty heavy sleeper. Didn’t mean to grab you like that.”

“It’s okay,” Hux says. Kylo walks towards the bed. The towel around his waist slips slightly, and Hux swallows hard, his eyes drawn to the faint trail of dark fuzz that leads down over his flat stomach. Hux realizes that he wants to lick it, and feels disgusted with himself. “I - it was my fault, I think. I was cold and I think I moved towards you in my sleep.”

“No problem,” Kylo says. He winks at Hux. “I’m happy to keep you warm. Any time.”

 _Jesus, what is he trying to do to me,_ Hux thinks. “I - er, I’ll go shower,” he mutters, darting past Kylo and locking the bathroom door behind him.

When Hux emerges, Kylo is sprawled on the bed on his stomach, still shirtless, and now wearing - a black pleated skirt? A kilt? Hux stares helplessly at the shadowy space between Kylo’s spread legs, his mouth going dry. He can’t quite tell if Kylo is wearing underwear. 

Kylo glances over his bare shoulder at Hux - rather provocatively, or so it seems to Hux. “Oh hey,” he says. “I was just looking at the guidebook. Is there anything in particular you want to do here?”

“Uh - not really, whatever you were planning is probably fine,” Hux says. He swallows hard. “Are you - is that how you’re planning to dress today?”

Kylo laughs. “I’ll put a shirt on, don’t worry,” he says. “But yeah, it’s tough to be a goth in hot weather. This is a lot breezier than, like, black leather pants.”

“Do you always wear a kilt when it’s hot?” Hux wonders how many days of being distracted by Kylo’s bare thighs are ahead of him. Not that Kylo in leather pants would be much better. 

“This is actually an extra-large Catholic schoolgirl skirt, not a kilt,” Kylo says cheerfully. “I got it at a uniform surplus store. But you can call it a kilt if that makes you feel more comfortable.”

“Oh,” Hux says, faintly. “Well - I guess if my father does track me down, hopefully your skirt will give him a heart attack and then I won’t ever have to deal with him again.”

“Hopefully,” Kylo agrees. He grins at Hux. “Or, hey, if you really want to kill him, wearing skirts is only one of the services I provide.” He gets up and comes closer, resting his hand lightly on the small of Hux’s back. 

“What, are you going to tell me that you’re secretly an assassin now?” Hux asks, his heart rate picking up at Kylo’s nearness. Kylo’s fingers feel hot even through Hux’s t-shirt. “Is that why you’re really traveling around the world?”

Kylo laughs. “Sure,” he says, “let’s go with that. But actually I was going to say - you know what I bet would really freak your dad out?”

“Practically everything about the modern world unnerves my father,” Hux says, “but what did you have in mind?”

Kylo sways closer. He holds up his phone. “I mean,” he says, “if my skirt would give him a heart attack, pictures of me kissing you would probably make him drop dead on the spot.”

Hux feels like a cartoon character who has just been hit over the head with a rubber mallet. He can’t quite breathe. “Uh,” he says, “yes. That would definitely kill him, for sure.”

“Let’s do it then,” Kylo murmers. Hux freezes, like a trapped animal, as Kylo leans forward to lightly press his lips against Hux’s. Sweat breaks out on Hux’s forehead; heat flares between his legs. Kylo’s lips are very soft. His fingers tighten on Hux’s waist and he inhales sharply, kissing Hux more firmly. The tip of his tongue edges past Hux’s lips as his phone’s camera clicks.

Hux jerks away, startled, breathing hard. “Sorry,” he says. “Did you, um - did you get the picture?”

“The picture, yeah,” Kylo says, looking at Hux intently. His face is flushed. “I - sure, I’ll send it to you.”

***

“So why, exactly, are we going to a medical museum?” Hux asks, later, as they take a commuter boat north along the Chao Phraya River. Hux has nothing in particular that he wants to see in Bangkok, but he still finds Kylo’s choice of destination odd. The river is wide and brown, choppy with small waves as the wind kicks up.

“Because it’s supposed to be really creepy and scary,” Kylo says. He flashes Hux that sweet, crooked smile again. Today his full lips are highlighted by a wet-looking plum-colored lipstick. Hux has been finding it difficult to look at Kylo’s mouth without blushing ever since the kiss that morning: he wonders, for the nth time, whether Kylo had really only kissed him to shock Hux’s father. Surely he had done it because he wanted to. But on the other hand, Kylo certainly seems like the sort of person who would enjoy being shocking for its own sake. 

“So are we just going there on general goth principles?” Hux asks. “Or is there some specific exhibit you want to see?” He looks away from Kylo. As they pull away from downtown, there are fewer skyscrapers along the waterfront. Here and there he can see the golden spires of a temple. At one pier, when the boat pulls up, the water is thick with enormous catfish, flopping on top of each other, thrashing towards the pellets of food that an old man is tossing to them. 

“General goth principles, mostly, and also I’m trying to get inspiration for my novel,” Kylo says. The wind is whipping through his hair, making it into an even wilder tangle than usual. His ears are pierced, Hux notices for the first time. A row of silver studs and crosses glitters from each ear. Kylo sees him looking and pulls his hair down over his ears with both hands, as though he’s self-conscious about them. As soon as he lets go the wind blows his hair back again.

“What kind of novel?” Hux asks, curiously.

Kylo looks pleased by the question. “It’s going to be erotic horror,” he says proudly. “That’s kind of the other thing I’m doing this year, besides just wandering around. I’m trying to write a novel.” He looks gloomy again. “But all I have right now is atmosphere. I can’t seem to come up with a plot.” 

“Well,” Hux says, patting Kylo’s arm, “maybe you’ll get lucky and something erotically horrible will happen to you at the museum.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for,” Kylo says, looking more cheerful. Hux realizes that he’s still touching Kylo’s bicep, and hastily withdraws his hand. 

***

“This is definitely very horrible,” Hux announces as he stares at a pickled corpse in a large glass case - the English-language caption identifies him, helpfully, as a “Rape Murderer” - “but not erotic.” He glances at Kylo. “I hope.” 

Kylo laughs. “Yeah, no,” he says. He looks sidelong at Hux. “I prefer alive people, don’t worry.”

Hux wonders, again, if Kylo is attempting to flirt with him. Hux is certainly alive, but that seems like a low bar. “So is this giving you what you needed for your novel?” he asks.

“Kind of,” Kylo says, still staring at the murderer‘s corpse. “A lot of this stuff seems more sad than scary, actually. Like, did you see that people were leaving candy for the poor babies in the jars in the other room?”

“Yeah,” Hux says, grimacing. “And that diorama about the tsunami, with the mannequin of the bloated drowned woman in a bikini.” Hux is accustomed to the sanitized, sanctified way that violent death is presented at American war memorials: the bluntness of the medical museum’s exhibits is startling.

“That one was pretty awful,” Kylo agrees. “You know, I went to southern Thailand years ago, with my parents, just a couple of years after the tsunami. We took a boat trip to this beautiful empty island with birds and palm trees - it seemed so perfect and untouched, like no one had ever been there. It was awesome actually. Then later one of the scuba instructors told us that the whole island had been a fishing village before the tsunami. Everyone who was there that day was killed. She told us she would never go there again, because of the ghosts.”

“Well,” Hux says, edging towards the exit, “there’s your ghost story, I guess.” In his present circumstances, the idea of people being wiped away as if they had never existed seems particularly unnerving. 

“I guess,” Kylo says. “Kind of hard to write erotic horror about a tsunami, though. They built a bunch of nightclubs there after we left - it’s, like, the party island now, apparently.” He follows Hux towards the door. “You know, we don’t only have to do my weird stuff here - we could do regular tourist things if you want. I already saw the Grand Palace and the Reclining Buddha and all that with my parents, but I’d be happy to go back with you.”

“It’s okay,” Hux says. “Palaces and Buddhas aren’t really my thing, anyway.”

“What is your thing, then?” Kylo asks, curiously. 

Hux opens his mouth, then realizes he isn’t sure what to say. “Working, I guess,” he says. “Mostly all I do is homework and track and robotics and debate. I try to stay out of the house as much as I can without pissing my father off.” He sighs. “I’ve just been trying for so long to keep my head down long enough to graduate from high school and never have to see him again. I almost made it.”

“It’s not fair,” Kylo says, looking at him sympathetically. “I mean, I’m a total fuck-up and my parents are just, like, ‘Go see the world! Have fun!’ You’re probably, like, a perfect straight-A student or whatever and your dad is still such a dick that you had to run away.” Some similarly resentful thoughts had occurred to Hux, but it seems ungracious to agree with Kylo. “You probably already got accepted to Harvard or somewhere, didn’t you?”

“Not Harvard,” Hux says, “but I did have a letter of assurance to West Point. They’re holding a spot for me on the condition that I pass a physical fitness test and get a congressional nomination. And graduate from high school, obviously.” He holds out his hands. “So much for that, I suppose, unless I go back.” _I can’t go back._

Kylo looks alarmed. “West Point? But doesn’t that mean you’d be in the army and your father would be, like, in charge of you?”

“Not directly. And he’ll most likely retire before I graduate.” Hux has ticked over the pros and cons of his various options so often that he recites them almost mechanically. “West Point is free, and you’re required to live in the barracks, so he won’t be able to make me live at home or threaten to cut off my tuition if he’s angry at me. It’s almost the only way for me to be entirely financially independent as soon as I finish high school.”

“But even if he can’t tell you what to do, the army can,” Kylo objects. “That just seems like - like moving the ball and chain from one ankle to the other, you know?”

Hux shrugs impatiently. “It hardly matters now. I blew all that up by running away. I can’t do any of it unless I go back.”

“That’s perfect then,” Kylo says happily. “Stay with me. Don’t go back to your dad and don’t go to West Point.”

“It’s not perfect,” Hux says irritably. They’re outside now; the sunlight and the muddy smell of the river are a relief after the faintly sick-smelling dimness among the rows of horrible glass jars inside the museum. “I feel like - like I fell down a manhole and I’m still falling.” 

“But I caught you,” Kylo says, earnestly. His face has that slightly manic intensity again. “You’re not falling anymore.”

Hux bites down hard on his lip, feeling suddenly furious at everyone. “But - you have to understand how crazy this is. I just met you last night.” A line from a movie he had watched in English class floats into his head: _I am dependent on the kindness of strangers._ He scowls at the thought. 

“Yeah,” Kylo says. He puts his arm around Hux, tentatively. “First good thing that’s happened to me in a long time.”

“I mean,” Hux says, staring out at the river, “well - yes. For me, too, actually.”

Kylo’s arm tightens around Hux. Hux breathes out, slowly. 

***

Over a lunch of spicy pork noodles from a roadside stand, Hux flips half-heartedly through the guidebook; it seems impossible to choose an itinerary for the afternoon. He finds himself wanting to simply sail along in Kylo’s wake, letting Kylo make all his decisions for him - even though Kylo is demonstrably a person who makes terrible life choices, such as inviting potentially dangerous airport strangers to travel the world with him. _Clearly something is wrong with me_ , he thinks. _This isn’t me._

“I know you said you just work all the time,” Kylo says, “but haven’t you ever gone on vacation before? What did you do then?”

“My father likes to take me to war memorials and battlefields and march me around lecturing me about them,” Hux says, rolling his eyes. “I’ve been reading military history since I was a child just so that I could point it out to him when he got something wrong. Even if it went badly for me after that.”

“Fun times,” Kylo says, with a grimace. “So basically you’ve never been on vacation.”

“I suppose not.” Hux waves his spoon at Kylo. “But really - it’s your vacation. You’re paying. We can do whatever you like.”

“Whatever I like, huh.” Kylo grins. 

Hux blushes. “Well - within reason.”

“What does that mean?” Kylo’s grin widens.

“It means - it means no more babies in jars.” 

Kylo makes a slightly pouty face. “Oh all right,” he says, “if you insist. And by the way - stop freaking out about me paying for things. I would’ve had to pay for my hotel room and taxi and stuff anyway. You’ve cost me like a dollar’s worth of noodles since I met you, it’s not a big deal.”

“I’ll still pay you back,” Hux says, frowning. “Eventually. I’ll find a way.”

“Yeah, I was really worried,” Kylo says, rolling his eyes. His face brightens. “Anyway, I know how you can pay me back.” 

“Oh really?” Hux’s shower fantasy comes back to him in a flash of heat: Kylo pushing his head down...

“Yeah. Come with me to the Mae Nak shrine this afternoon, I really want to see it.”

“Oh no,” Hux says apprehensively, “what’s that?”

“Mae Nak is a ghost,” Kylo says cheerfully. Hux groans. “I saw a movie about it. Her husband went off to war and she was killed while he was gone... but when he came back everything seemed just the same, except that all the other people in the village were avoiding them. Then he looked at her through a special rock and it turned out that she was actually just a rotting corpse. And now there’s a shrine to her about a half-hour from here.” 

“Oh my god,” Hux says, “why.”

“Well, if you bring her an offering, she’s supposed to help you avoid being drafted into the military,” Kylo says earnestly. “Maybe she can help you figure out something to do with your life besides West Point. She does winning lottery tickets, too.”

Hux sighs. “I guess I could certainly use one of those.”

***

“I feel like I spent all day wandering around being an idiot,” Hux says, as they get back to the hotel in the evening.

“That’s okay,” Kylo says cheerfully. “That’s pretty much what I do all the time, anyway. That’s why travel is good for you - like I said, it gets you out of your comfort zone.”

They had arrived at the Mae Nak shrine late that afternoon, after an extended journey through Bangkok traffic. A woman at the gate peered suspiciously at their bare legs - Kylo was in his skirt, and Hux had borrowed a pair of running shorts that seemed to be possibly the only unobjectionable item in Kylo’s wardrobe - and handed them each a colorful sarong to put on over their clothes. Kylo, who was wearing a cut-off black t-shirt that had been distracting Hux all day by exposing his arms and a pale stripe of his abs, was also required to wrap his upper body in a pink shawl. Kylo took all this in stride, but Hux found it mortifying.

“This sarong would actually be really comfortable if I didn’t have the other skirt on under it,” Kylo announced. “I think I’m going to get one and wear it all the time. You should get one too - you look cute. We could match.”

“Ugh, no thanks,” Hux said, trying not to look pleased to be called _cute_ , of all things. “Although if we are trying to get my father to drop dead of shock, I suppose sending him a photograph of us wearing matching skirts would probably do the trick.”

“Let’s take a picture right now,” Kylo said, holding up his phone. “I’m really proud of my eyeliner today anyway. Normally I don’t use liquid liner because I always screw it up, but I think I’m finally getting the hang of it.”

Hux hoped that Kylo might suggest that they kiss again to make the photo especially scandalous. But Kylo only put his arm around Hux and snapped the picture, then stepped away. 

As it developed, the shrine was somewhere on the grounds of a large Buddhist temple complex. There were no signs in English. They wandered around fruitlessly in the heat for some time before stopping near what seemed to be a musical performance: monks in yellow robes were chanting and banging a gong as they walked in a slow circle. Hux wondered if Kylo would want to sit through the entire concert. 

A young Thai woman in the last row of the audience glanced over her shoulder at them. “Do you need help?” she asked.

“Yeah, actually,” Kylo said gratefully. He held out his guidebook. “We’re trying to find this shrine - “

An elderly white man, also in the last row, turned furiously in their direction. “What is wrong with you two?” he hissed. “This is a funeral!”

“Oh no,” Kylo whispered, “I’m so sorry!” Hux was already backing away, his face crimson both from the heat and from the humiliation of realizing that he had just barged into a stranger’s funeral while wearing an embroidered purple sarong. 

“The shrine is that way,” the young woman said, pointing, with a resigned expression on her face.

“I guess luckily Thai people are used to white people wandering around here being idiots,” Kylo said, somewhat guiltily, as soon as they were out of earshot. Hux said nothing, still feeling permanently shriveled with mortification. “I better get some extra offerings for Mae Nak to make up for that.”

Inside the shrine, Hux hovered awkwardly behind Kylo while he ceremoniously arranged his offering of a length of red silk - purchased from a helpful vendor outside - around the trunk of an enormous banyan tree that was growing through the roof. Then Kylo knelt silently in front of the statue of Mae Nak, apparently praying or meditating. Hux shifted from one foot to the other, feeling the same sense of itchy discomfort that had always crawled over his skin during every religious service he had ever been forced to sit through. Hux’s father, thankfully, was not religious, but sometimes he felt that he had to attend church with his family for appearances’ sake, and every military ceremony that Hux had ever been to had begun and ended with prayers from the chaplain. 

It was hot and airless inside the shrine, and the Mae Nak statue had large, penetrating painted black eyes that seemed to follow Hux around the room. Insects crawled over the offerings of fruit and flowers that other people had left. While Hux waited for Kylo, several young Thai men came in to pray: Hux looked at them curiously, wondering if they were afraid of being drafted. 

“So are you Buddhist or something?” Hux asked Kylo, somewhat apprehensively, as they walked back through the shimmering afternoon heat to the main road.

“No, I’m Jewish.” 

“Then why are you praying to a Thai ghost? I didn’t think Jewish people did that.”

Kylo shrugged. “This Jewish person does,” he said. “I liked the movie about her. Plus, I figure I need all the help I can get.”

Hux’s sense of discomfort deepened during dinner: he had expected another meal of roadside noodles, but instead Kylo took him to a surprisingly elegant restaurant on a bustling downtown street. The restaurant was dimly-lit and full of fashionably-dressed couples. Hux,  
still dressed in the running shorts and Joy Division t-shirt - now sweat-stained and dusty - that he had borrowed from Kylo that morning, felt as if he wanted to sink through the floor whenever anyone looked at him. 

“We didn’t really need to come to such an expensive place,” Hux said, looking over the menu uneasily. “I could just go get street food again.”

“I wanted to take you somewhere nice,” Kylo said, touching his hand and looking appealingly at him. Meeting his gaze made Hux feel slightly dizzy. “What would you like to eat? Don’t worry about the bill.”

Hux wondered if Kylo had meant this to be a date. _I feel like I’ve gone through the looking-glass,_ he thought. _Nothing makes sense and I don’t know how to do any of this._ “I’m just - not dressed for this. I feel stupid.”

“You look great,” Kylo said soothingly, still patting his hand. They were very nearly holding hands, Hux thought, with another giddy flop of his stomach. “Have a beer, that will help.”

The beer did help - Hux had never been allowed to drink at home, and even a single beer filled him with a kind of pleasant warm haze - but not enough to stop Hux from one final bout of mortification during dessert. He was determined to eat all the unfamiliar food without complaining, so when the waiter brought a tray of little white puffs wrapped in green leaves, he popped one in his mouth. It had a pleasantly sweet coconut flavor, but the leaf was very tough. He chewed at it furiously, but seemed to be making no progress. Finally he managed to swallow it. 

Kylo was looking at him curiously. “What did you do with the wrapper?”

“The wrapper?”

“The banana leaf. You didn’t eat that part, did you?” Hux’s face went hot. Kylo was laughing. “See? You’re lucky this is a nice place - at cheap places sometimes those things have staples in them.”

“I was trying to be polite,” Hux said gloomily. “I suppose I might as well act like an idiot, since I already look like one anyway.”

“You’re adorable, and you look adorable,” Kylo said, squeezing his hand. “But you don’t have to be polite with me. Have another beer.”

***

Now, back at the hotel, Hux steps out of the shower and stares at his reflection in the fogged bathroom mirror. He’s still warm from the beer and from the way Kylo had been looking at him all day. The idea of spending another night sharing a bed with Kylo thrums excitingly through him: he remembers Kylo’s hot tongue slipping past his lips, and wonders how he might be able to get Kylo to do it again. 

It occurs to Hux that he really has no idea how to be, well, sexy - how to make Kylo want him. He frowns at his pale, flushed reflection, wondering if Kylo would like it if Hux came out in just a towel, or if he would just laugh at Hux’s skinny arms, his narrow chest and shoulders. Lifting weights obsessively - mostly in response to caustic comments from his father - has given Hux’s upper body some definition, but nothing like Kylo’s bulk and power. 

_It’s good to get out of your comfort zone_ , Kylo had said. Well, Hux is certainly out of his comfort zone now, if he’s ever had one, he thinks. He sighs. Eventually he pulls on the same t-shirt and shorts he had worn to bed the previous night and steps out of the bathroom. 

Kylo is lying on the bed, shirtless as usual and partly under the sheet; he lifts the edge of the covers invitingly. “It’s still pretty cold in here,” he says hopefully. “Want me to keep you warm again?”

“Sure,” Hux says, feeling that dizzy shiver go through him once more. He climbs into bed, lying down on his side with his back to Kylo. Kylo reaches for him, pulling him close. After the long, hot day, it feels wonderful to be clean and wrapped in cool sheets, with Kylo’s arm securely around his waist. He breathes in. Kylo’s hot fingers are just barely brushing his bare skin, where his t-shirt is riding up over his stomach. Some combination of this and the the beer makes him feel bolder. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Kylo rumbles behind him. “Whatever you want.”

Hux’s heart is pounding. “This morning, when you kissed me - was it really just to shock my father, or was it - was it - “

“Because I wanted to?”

“Yeah.” Hux holds his breath.

Kylo laughs. “Of course I wanted to kiss you,” he says. “Hux, I’ve been hitting on you since I met you. I haven’t exactly been subtle about it - I didn’t know if you were oblivious or just not interested. After you pushed me away this morning I figured you weren’t interested.”

“I was just startled,” Hux says. “I’ve never done that before.” He wonders what possessed him to admit that.

“Wait,” Kylo says, “was that really your first kiss?”

“Well - yes,” Hux says reluctantly, feeling unhappily inexperienced and out of his depth. 

“Wow,” Kylo says, sounding awestruck. He hugs Hux more firmly from from behind. “Well, hey - if you ever decide you want a second one, I’m right here.”

“Yeah?” Hux says, turning over to face him. He squeezes his eyes shut and darts his face forward towards Kylo’s. He slightly misses Kylo’s mouth - his tightly closed lips hit the corner of Kylo’s - but Kylo doesn’t seem to mind: he kisses Hux back, hard, rolling half on top of him with a groan. His mouth is wet and stingingly hot. 

Hux lets out an embarrassing little squeak as Kylo presses eagerly up against him, already getting hard; he can barely breathe around Kylo’s tongue. Hux’s cock throbs wildly between his legs. Kylo’s hands are all over him, squeezing and exploring, kneading at his ass, pushing his shirt up to paw at his chest. Everything is so new and so _much_ that Hux feels overwhelmed and overloaded, like a circuit with too much power pumping through it. 

Hesitantly, Hux allows himself to touch Kylo, running his palms over the hard muscle of Kylo’s arms and back, squeezing Kylo’s pecs. Kylo’s stubble scrapes against his face. Hux’s lips feel raw already from being kissed so enthusiastically. He squirms under Kylo - Kylo whimpers - and manages to wrap both legs around him, grinding their cocks together through their clothes. Kylo breaks the kiss to gasp wetly in Hux’s ear. His hands are still under Hux’s shirt. He simultaneously bites down on Hux’s neck and pinches lightly at Hux’s nipples, and Hux yelps, his body spasming, as heat rushes blindingly through him. He goes limp under Kylo, his face crimson, feeling mortified once again. He tries to push Kylo away.

Kylo rolls off him. “What’s wrong?” His face is flushed, his lips red and swollen, as he looks at Hux. 

“I, uh.” Hux bites his lip hard. “I need to change.” He starts to get up. 

Kylo stops him with a hand on his thigh. “Wait - oh, fuck, did you just come? Fuck, that’s so fucking hot.” He’s staring at the wet spot on the front of Hux’s shorts. 

Hux covers his face with his hands. “My final humiliation for the day. I hope.”

Kylo pries his hands away from his face and kisses him fiercely, clutching at the back of Hux’s neck. “Don’t be humiliated - I love that I made you come,” he says breathlessly. “Can I - please - can I see you?”

“See what?” Hux says warily, but he allows Kylo to tug his oversized t-shirt over his head and pull his sticky boxers down over his hips. When he’s fully undressed, he looks shyly at Kylo, wondering what he’s thinking.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” Kylo sighs, palming his cock through his boxers as he looks Hux over. “Hux - can I - you don’t have to say yes - but can I come on you? You turn me on like fucking crazy.”

“Uh - yeah, okay,” Hux says, his heart beating faster. This was something he had seen many times in porn - including, he remembers with a sickening lurch, the video that his father had somehow found in his search history in spite of all the precautions he had taken - but he hadn’t been sure if it was something that people really did in real life. Apparently it is. He lies down on his back. “Like this?”

“Yeah - fuck, that’s perfect,” Kylo says hoarsely, kneeling over Hux, straddling his hips. He licks his hand loudly and slides a hand into his shorts, pulling out his cock.

“Wow, you’re _huge_ ,” Hux says, then feels stupid. But it seems to be the right thing to say. Kylo lets out a high-pitched, desperate sound and thrusts hard into his fist. He’s panting, his mouth wet and open, as his hips jerk frantically. “I didn’t even think guys really had dicks that big outside of porn,” Hux adds, mostly to see what effect this will have on Kylo. Kylo gasps and bites down hard on his lower lip. His back arches and he squeezes his cock one more time before thick jets of come spray hotly over Hux’s chest and stomach. 

He collapses on top of Hux, kissing him again, more gently now, almost gratefully. “That was so good,” he sighs happily. “I didn’t know - I loved that.”

Hux strokes Kylo’s back, feeling oddly proud of himself. “What didn’t you know?”

Kylo tucks his face affectionately into Hux’s neck, still breathing hard. “Oh - that it would feel so good, I guess. I’ve never done that before.”

“Really?” Hux says, surprised. “Like, you’ve never done any of this - or just that specifically - “

“I haven’t really done much of anything before,” Kylo says, somewhat muffled against Hux’s skin. “I’ve fooled around some, I mean. But mostly I just watch a lot of porn.”

Hux laughs. “Me, too. That’s why I’m here, I guess.”

“Oh yeah,” Kylo says. He lifts his head to look at Hux with interest. They’re beginning to stick together, but Hux can’t quite bring himself to shove Kylo off him. “I almost forgot. So will you tell me now what that porn video that caused all this trouble was about? I hope it was something really crazy.”

“Not really,” Hux says, shrugging. “A big tattooed guy and a skinny younger guy. Just pretty normal stuff. It was only the fact that it was two guys - that’s why I had to leave.”

“I kind of figured that.” Kylo squeezes Hux tightly. “I’m really sorry. But, uh, if it’s okay - what kind of normal stuff?”

“Um,” Hux says, “it didn’t exactly have an extensive plot. The skinny guy sucked the big guy’s dick for a while and then the bigger guy fucked him until he came. Then the bigger guy pulled out and came on his chest.” Hux doesn’t say that part of the reason he had watched that particular video so many times was that there was a surprisingly genuine tenderness in the way the two men touched each other; somehow it’s easier to recite a list of sex acts than to admit to that.

“I want to do everything with you,” Kylo is saying, rapturously. “Everything. Anything you want.”

“Mmm,” Hux responds, petting Kylo’s thick, silky hair. Kylo makes a pleased little sound, rubbing his head against Hux’s hand. “So is that why you really started talking to me at the airport?”

“What, because I thought you were hot?” Hux doesn’t respond. “I mean, yeah, of course, I thought you were beautiful. You look like - like a fucking watercolor painting, you know? But it was also because of the expression on your face.”

“What expression?”

Kylo is silent for a moment, breathing against Hux. “You looked - well, you looked like you wanted to die. And I’ve been there.”

“I didn’t, not really,” Hux says. “Well - mostly not. Anyway I definitely don’t want to die now.”

Kylo kisses him, lingeringly. “Yeah,” he says. “Neither do I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Homophobia/Brendol Hux’s A+ Parenting: Hux is running away because Brendol just found out he’s gay. There are references to Brendol’s emotional abuse and to Hux’s fear that his father will physically hurt him. No graphic details.
> 
> \- Referenced Suicide Attempt/Suicidal Thoughts/Mental Health Issues: Kylo tells Hux that he tried to kill himself and says that when he saw Hux he was afraid Hux was also suicidal. No graphic details. It’s also implied that Kylo has suffered from depression and that he’s using his interest in Hux to avoid dealing with his mental-health issues.
> 
> \- Ableist Language: Kylo refers to himself as crazy, nuts, “a fuck-up,” etc., and Hux thinks of him in similar terms.
> 
> \- Boxing Day tsunami references: Kylo briefly describes what happened on Ko Phi Phi during and after the 2004 tsunami. No graphic details.
> 
> \- Sex: everything is consensual and they’re both 18. However, Hux is still in high school, if that’s an issue for anyone.
> 
> Also, I wasn’t sure how to tag this, but there are brief, non-graphic descriptions of the human bodies (including babies) that are on display at the Siriraj Medical Museum.
> 
> Anyway! This was fun to write - I miss being able to travel - and I might write more about these two idiots bumbling around Southeast Asia. Let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in reading. I’m on Twitter and Tumblr under the same username and would love to hear from you.


	2. Chapter 2

“You like that?”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Hux moans, peering out at Kylo through his fingers; his hands are tightly clamped over his face. Kylo is lying on top of him, looking at him, his face flushed. Until that moment he had been licking and sucking at Hux’s nipples, moving from one to the other until they were stiff and swollen. “Why’d you stop?”

“I couldn’t see your face, I didn’t know if you wanted me to keep going.” Kylo reaches up to gently tug Hux’s hands down.

Hux squeezes his eyes shut. “It’s just - embarrassing.” 

“What is? That you like having your nipples played with?” Kylo grins. 

“I know it’s weird.”

“It’s not weird, it’s fucking hot.” Kylo lowers his head to flick at Hux’s right nipple with his tongue, rolling the other between his fingers. Hux groans and thrusts his hips up, grinding his leaking cock against Kylo‘s stomach. “I could suck on your pretty tits all day.”

“Don’t call them that.” Hux puts his hands over his face again. “Actually - I don’t know - it’s kind of hot when you say that. What are you doing to me?”

Kylo laughs. He sounds delighted. “So you want me to keep talking about your little tits? And how pink and pretty they are and how good they feel in my mouth?” He’s pinching at them with both hands as he says this and Hux feels as if he’s going to die. Every touch sends a jolt of heat down his spine. 

“God - fucking - damn it - “ Hux whimpers, his hips moving helplessly now, his cock throbbing wildly against Kylo’s sweaty abs. Kylo sucks hard at one oversensitive nipple and Hux’s back arches almost painfully. “You’re going to make me come - _again_ \- “ 

He had woken up that morning to find Kylo once again hard against him. This time, feeling rather daring, he had rubbed his hips back against Kylo, while Kylo made little whimpering noises and clutched at him in his sleep. Eventually Kylo woke up and began groping Hux, squeezing and fondling his chest as he ground his cock against Hux’s ass, mouthing at the back of Hux’s neck. Finally he slid his hand inside Hux’s shorts and Hux came in his hand almost immediately.

“Good,” Kylo mumbles now, his breath hot on Hux’s wet skin. “Actually - can I suck you? I want you to come in my mouth this time.”

“Please,” Hux whispers, then wonders if he should be wearing a condom for this part. Does Kylo have condoms somewhere in his giant backpack? But then Kylo’s mouth is on him and he can’t think anymore. Hux would have expected someone giving their first blowjob to be at least somewhat hesitant and tentative, but Kylo is messy and enthusiastic, swallowing Hux’s cock down to the root immediately, sucking hard. He scrapes the shaft of Hux’s cock slightly with a tooth as he bobs his head furiously, and his spit drips onto Hux’s leg, but Hux doesn’t care. The hot suction is overwhelming. Hux lets out a little shriek and comes hard, his hips jerking wildly. Kylo coughs and pulls away, come dripping down his chin. Hux watches his throat move as he swallows. 

“Sorry - I should’ve warned you,” Hux says guiltily. Based on his extensive Internet research, he understands that this is an important aspect of blowjob etiquette, but in the heat of the moment it had slipped his mind. 

“It’s fine, I literally just told you I wanted you to come in my mouth,” Kylo says happily, licking his lips. “I loved that, I want to do that all the time.” He flops down next to Hux, kissing him, clutching at Hux’s head with both hands. Hux tenses initially at the bleach taste of his own come in Kylo’s mouth, then forces himself to relax. 

Kylo’s hard cock is nudging insistently against Hux’s hip. Hux reaches down to touch it, his heart pounding, wondering if Kylo will expect him to reciprocate. The idea of choking on Kylo’s cock, of being forced to swallow his come, had been excruciatingly hot in theory, but now the possible reality makes him anxious. What if he gags, or accidentally bites Kylo? And should he make Kylo put on a condom? Hux hadn’t worn one himself, so it seems rather unfair. But Hux had always promised himself that he would never have any kind of sex without one. In the abstract, it had seemed very simple: Hux had in fact always been rather contemptuous of people who were foolish enough to contract STDs or have unplanned pregnancies, when there was such a straightforward alternative. But now, with Kylo whimpering against his mouth and Kylo’s cock pulsing in his hand, it seems impossibly awkward to pause for a health-class-style dialogue about the importance of safe sex. 

“Fuck,” Kylo moans, as Hux rubs his thumb experimentally over the spot just under the head of Kylo’s cock, where Hux himself is particularly sensitive. Kylo’s body jerks as if he’s having a seizure. He’s dripping pre-come onto Hux’s fingers. “You drive me fucking crazy - your hands are so soft - “

“Do you - uh - do you have condoms?” Hux finally manages to blurt out.

“What? Oh - no - why, do you want me to fuck you?” Kylo pants, thrusting his hips haphazardly into Hux’s hand. Hux’s eyes go wide. _No, no, no_ , he thinks. “I mean - I’m clean, I’ve never done any of this before - but I’m not going to last long enough for that - please just keep touching me?“

“Never mind,” Hux says, feeling suddenly reckless, wanting to find out what Kylo tastes like. He slides down towards the foot of the bed. Kylo rolls onto his back and spreads his legs hopefully, propping his head up on the pillows. Hux lies down on his stomach between Kylo’s thighs, then sits up again, trying to figure out how best to approach this situation. Up close, the impressive dimensions of Kylo’s cock seem less like a pornographic fantasy and more like a logistical problem. 

Kylo is watching him, breathing shallowly; his face is very pink. His cock twitches as Hux stares at it. A drop of clear liquid trickles slowly down from the head. “Please,” he says again, urgently, “please touch me?”

“Okay,” Hux says, feeling sweat break out on the back of his neck. He squeezes the shaft of Kylo’s cock - Kylo lets out a strangled noise - and bends over to lick tentatively at the leaking tip of it. He likes the slightly bitter, salty taste, he decides. And he definitely likes the way Kylo groans from deep in his chest when Hux slides his mouth down carefully over the head - _keep your lips over your teeth_ , he remembers reading - and begins to suck. Then Kylo’s hips spasm upwards, his cock hits the back of Hux’s throat, and Hux jerks away, gagging. His eyes sting with tears.

“Sorry, sorry,” Kylo says, frantically, reaching for him, “I couldn’t help it - I’ll try to hold still - “

“It’s fine,” Hux says, coughing, batting Kylo’s anxious hands away. _I’m going to figure this out_ , he tells himself, squaring his shoulders. He bends over again. This time, he wraps his fist firmly around the base of Kylo’s cock to reduce the likelihood of any unexpected thrusts down his throat, and takes it cautiously into his mouth again. He bobs his head, beginning to find a rhythm. He can’t quite get his lips far enough down to meet his hand, but Kylo doesn’t seem to mind. Kylo is writhing on the bed, making little frantic noises.

“God, your mouth,” Kylo moans. “You’re doing so good - please - _fuck_ \- “ Hux remembers that he had been wondering if Kylo might also like having his nipples touched, and he reaches up with his free hand to find out, pinching at them. “Jesus - _fucking_ Christ,” Kylo gasps, his hips twitching.

 _That seems like a positive reaction_ , Hux thinks, pleased. 

“Hux - I’m going to - oh fuck, sorry!” Hux had not quite made up his mind whether or not he was willing to have Kylo come in his mouth, but all of a sudden he finds that the decision has been made for him. He chokes a little on the startling rush of hot, salty fluid that jets into his throat. He manages to swallow some of it. Then he sits up, wiping his lips on the back of his hand, looking at Kylo to see if he had done well.

“You okay?” Kylo asks, holding out his arms. “Sorry, I meant to try to give you more warning.” He smiles sheepishly. “But I just - I don’t know, I can’t control myself around you.”

“It’s all right, I did the same thing to you.” Hux lies down with his head on Kylo’s shoulder. “So did you like that?”

“Did I like that?” Kylo laughs. “You’re crazy fucking hot and you just sucked my dick, of course I liked it.” He squeezes Hux tightly. “And I loved sucking you off, that was amazing. Your cock is, like, the perfect size to fit in my mouth.”

 _It’s small, you mean_ , Hux thinks gloomily. This had been another topic of his extensive Internet research. A study in the British Journal of Urology (International Edition) had reassured him that his cock is, in fact, somewhat larger than average for an American male, but Hux is so tall that he worries that his cock must look undersized by comparison. And the undeniable contrast with Kylo makes him feel especially insecure. But, if Kylo likes it, Hux isn’t about to argue the point.

Kylo is still talking. “You know what I was saying the other day, about how I felt like it was fate that I found you at the airport at that exact moment?” _Oh no, not this again_ , Hux thinks. “I felt like that again, when I was blowing you... like, this is what I’m supposed to be doing, this is where I’m meant to be.”

Hux laughs. “Really? You think sucking my cock is - your fate or your destiny or something?”

“I know you think I’m crazy,” Kylo says, sounding rather hurt. 

Hux shrugs. “I mean, if you believe that the universe wants you to blow me, I’m fine with that.” Kylo still looks somewhat wounded, so he adds, “You’re really good at it - it felt amazing.”

Kylo brightens. “Really?”

“Yeah. You didn’t notice that you made me come in like ten seconds?”

“Well, you came really fast the other times too, so I thought maybe it’s just how you always are.”

“Fuck off,” Hux says, his face going hot, “I’m - I’m doing my best here.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Kylo says, stroking Hux’s hair firmly, as if Hux were a ruffled bird he wants to soothe. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way - I love making you come. Watching you lose control is like the hottest thing ever.”

“Hmmph,” Hux responds, still slightly annoyed. He’s also beginning to feel increasingly uneasy about the fact that they hadn’t used condoms. “I still can’t believe that you’ve really never done any of this before,” he says, after a moment. 

“Why not? I thought you hadn’t either.”

 _Look at you_ , Hux thinks. _Everyone must want to fuck you._ “I haven’t. But you just - you look like someone who has sex all the time.”

Kylo laughs. “Thanks, I think,” he says. “Like I said, I’ve fooled around a little. But everyone at my last school was scared of me. They thought I was, like, a school shooter or something.”

Hux considers this. “I’d probably still want to fuck you even if I thought you might be a school shooter, honestly,” he says. “Especially if you seemed likely to shoot my father first. After all when I saw you at the airport I was afraid you might be a serial killer, but here we are.”

“You thought I might be a serial killer? And you still came back here with me?” Kylo shakes his head, bemused. “I can’t tell whether that’s an insult or a compliment.”

“It’s a compliment,” Hux says firmly. “I always assume strangers who want to talk to me are serial killers, but you’re the only one I’ve ever slept with.”

Kylo laughs again. “Too bad there wasn’t anyone like you at my high school, then.”

Hux sighs. “Even if I’d been there, my father would never have let me spend time with you.”

“Yeah?” Kylo grins. “So you wouldn’t ever have snuck off to let me suck your pretty cock under the bleachers or wherever?”

Hux flushes red again. He still doesn’t especially like being called _pretty_ when he isn’t just about to come. “Maybe,” he says. “Honestly, though, if you’d tried to talk to me in school I probably would’ve panicked and said something insulting to get you to leave me alone. I wouldn’t have known what to do with you.”

“What if I offered to kill your dad for you?”

“That would certainly have been a good opening line,” Hux says. “Probably just as well we didn’t know each other in school, then, or we might both be in jail.”

“Actual murder wasn’t really my style, anyway,” Kylo says amiably. “Mostly I just tried to hex people. I was really into witchcraft for a while, especially junior year.”

Hux rolls his eyes. “Somehow I’m not surprised. Where did you even learn to hex people, anyway? WikiHow?”

“Ouch,” Kylo protests. “Maybe we should go eat breakfast, you’re getting mean.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Kylo says, “it’s kind of hot, actually.” 

***

Breakfast is in the guesthouse’s postage-stamp-sized garden, under a flowering tree that has somehow survived despite being entirely overshadowed by the towering skyscrapers all around it. Kylo had opted for the ‘Thai breakfast’ option: he is now enthusiastically eating a steaming bowl of rice soup with shrimp and chives, which had come with a colorful plate of sliced fresh fruit. Hux, who had made the mistake of choosing the ‘Western breakfast,’ pokes unhappily at his rubbery eggs. They’re accompanied by a side of burnt toast, a small bowl of canned corn, a limp hot dog, and - inexplicably - a scoop of sweet potatoes with a cardboard mustache stuck into it at a jaunty angle.

Kylo looks at Hux’s face and laughs. “Want some of mine?”

“Thanks,” Hux says, taking a slice of dragon fruit from Kylo’s plate. “This breakfast is like one of those medieval drawings of a lion - it’s like the person who made it had heard rumors about Western breakfast, but had never actually seen one in the wild.”

“I’m sure Thai people feel the same way about a lot of Thai food in the U.S.,” Kylo says. “At least you get a cardboard mustache. Anyway, that’s why I always get the local option, whatever it is - don’t you do that in Korea too?”

“I don’t actually live in Korea,” Hux says, nibbling unenthusiastically at his hot dog. It tastes weirdly sweet. “I live on a U.S. military base in Korea, which means that I basically live in an American suburb in the 1970s. Except that I occasionally take day trips to Seoul and the twenty-first century.”

“I’ve never been on a military base, but that sounds awful.”

“It is,” Hux says. “My father is supposed to have the nicest house on the base, but everything was built back then, so it’s just a million tiny dark rooms with wood paneling. Our kitchen is avocado and orange. My stepmother complains about it all the time, even though my father has an enlisted aide who does all the actual cooking.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you had a stepmother,” Kylo says, looking at him curiously. “Is she an okay person? Could she talk to your dad for you?”

Hux snorts. “She’s never liked me,” he says. “And my father wouldn’t listen to her anyway. I think he only married her because she was the daughter of the West Point superintendent - she’s been able to help him in his career. And she’s good at hosting luncheons for officers’ wives and charity drives and ordering his aides around, that sort of thing. She looks like a Fox News anchor - she’s very blonde and she puts a lot of effort into not having visible pores.” He helps himself to a spoonful of Kylo’s soup. It has a rich, unfamiliar flavor. “Anyway - enough about them. What’s your family like? I realized last night, I never asked your last name.”

Kylo looks wary. “I go by Kylo Ren.”

“But that’s not your real name?” Kylo hesitates. “Really, so you’re willing to tell me about - “ Hux starts to say _your suicide attempt_ and stops himself at the last minute - “your sexual fantasies, but you won’t tell me your name?”

“Kylo Ren _is_ my real name. Just not my legal name yet.” Kylo thrusts his chin out aggressively.

“Oh very well,” Hux says, taking more of Kylo’s soup, “be an international man of mystery if you like. I suppose it doesn’t matter. So what haunted museums and cursed temples are on the agenda for today?”

Kylo looks relieved at the change of subject. “I was thinking,” he says, waving his spoon at Hux. 

“Oh no,” Hux says, “that sounds like an alarming development.”

“You’re a lot snarkier today than yesterday,” Kylo observes, sounding amused. “You’d think that getting laid would make a person less mean and sarcastic, but apparently it works the opposite way with you.”

“Sorry,” Hux says, feeling annoyed at himself. _Don’t get too comfortable_ , he reminds himself. _This isn’t Mitaka. If you piss him off you’ll be homeless._ “I guess I - I’ve relaxed a little since yesterday, I suppose. I’m not normally an especially friendly person, but I - I’ll try.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Kylo protests. “Like I said, it’s kind of hot when you insult me.” He strokes the inside of Hux’s ankle under the table with his toe. “It’s just funny. It’s like you had Grouch Flu.”

“Grouch Flu?”

“Yeah. From Sesame Street. There was an episode where Oscar the Grouch gets the flu and they can tell he’s sick and that something is wrong because he starts being nice to everyone. Then once he gets better he goes back to being a grouch.” Hux is laughing. “My mom used to tell me I was like that when I was a kid. Apparently you’re like that, too.”

“What day is today, Thursday?” Hux says. “You know, on Monday, I didn’t have any special expectations for today, but I definitely didn’t think I’d be sitting under a tree in Bangkok while a goth in a skirt explains Sesame Street to me.”

“Sounds like you got lucky,” Kylo says, grinning. Under the table, his bare foot is nudging its way higher up Hux’s leg, towards his lap. “Anyway, I’d much rather have you being a happy grouch than all docile and traumatized. But stop being sarcastic for thirty seconds and listen to me.” Hux raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything further. “It sounds like you’ve never really been on vacation and you said you normally just work all the time - so I was thinking you might like to do something relaxing today. Want to go to a spa?”

Hux opens his mouth to say, _No, absolutely not_ , then reconsiders. “That sounds like the sort of thing that would completely disgust my father if he heard about it,” he says, “so let’s do it.”

“Great! I was hoping you’d say that.” Kylo pushes his tray towards Hux. “We might as well swap breakfasts, you’ve eaten half of mine anyway.”

***

“You know how I told you yesterday that palaces and temples aren’t my thing, and you asked me what my thing was?” 

“Yeah?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure what to say yesterday, but this is it,” Hux announces. “This is my thing. This is great.” 

They’re sitting in a hot tub, facing each other, their feet intertwined. A massage therapist sits behind each of them, rubbing their heads with some sort of oil that smells like lemongrass. When Hux looks up he can see palm trees and blue sky through the large skylight overhead. 

Earlier, they had been ordered to change into sarongs in a private room that was all teakwood and gauzy white curtains; it reminded Hux of the place where people in movies go during their near-death experiences. Two women in white lab coats then scrubbed their chests and legs vigorously with something that felt like rock salt, before applying a series of mysterious substances to their faces. “I think this must be the Detoxifying Facial,” Kylo said.

“Why do our faces need to be detoxified?” Hux asked suspiciously.

Kylo shrugged. “I have no idea, it was part of the couples’ package.”

After the facial, two different women came in to bend their limbs in various directions as part of the Thai massage: Kylo spent most of it laughing uncontrollably at both Hux’s complete lack of flexibility and his frantic efforts to keep his sarong from falling off. _Just another day of making a fool of myself_ , Hux thought sourly. 

But the oil massage that followed had made him feel as if his entire body were melting into the massage table. And the pedicure and foot massage were even better. After years of running track, Hux was meticulous about caring for his feet, but he had never had anyone else to do it for him. He had always secretly wanted to get a pedicure, but it was one of a long list of activities that were unthinkable because of his father. 

Now his feet feel brand-new and perfect, as if he had just unboxed a new set. Even his face feels unusually soft and relaxed, in spite of his lack of faith in the scientific underpinnings of the detoxifying facial. The therapist’s strong fingers dig deliciously into the tense muscles near Hux’s jaw, which feel as if they’ve been clenched continuously for years. 

Kylo nudges Hux’s knee with his own under the whirling water. “I thought we already discovered what your _thing_ was. Last night, and this morning.”

“Shhh,” Hux says, frowning. He gestures towards the massage therapists. 

“Oh all right,” Kylo says, rolling his eyes. “You’re cute, anyway. It was fun listening to your little happy noises while they were rubbing your back.”

Hux winces. “I didn’t even realize I was doing that.”

“Yeah. You sounded like a puppy who was finally being scratched the right way.” Kylo is looking at him so tenderly that it makes Hux nervous. 

“Just one more embarrassing moment for me, I suppose,” Hux says gloomily. “What else is new?”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Kylo says, “it was adorable. Maybe I should take Thai massage lessons - I want to be able to make you make noises like that all the time.” He grins. “Although I felt like I was doing pretty good this morning even without the lessons.”

“Oh my god,” Hux says, kicking him under the water, “shut _up._ ”

***

“Do you mind if we go to Chatuchak Market next?” Kylo asks, once they’re back outside. The hot whirl of downtown Bangkok, with its street vendors and hordes of motorbikes and occasional mysterious substances that drip from overhead, seems especially overwhelming to Hux after the otherworldly peace of the spa. “I want to look for souvenirs.”

Hux shrugs. “Sure, if you want. What do they sell there?”

“Everything,” Kylo says enthusiastically. “Literally everything. When I went there with my parents a guy offered to sell me a baby Burmese python for fifteen bucks. My mom got mad at him about it.”

Hux groans. “I don’t want to prevent you from fulfilling all your travel dreams,” he says, “but I’m not sure how long I can go with a python for a roommate.”

“You didn’t seem to mind it this morning.” Kylo jerks away, laughing, as Hux elbows him sharply in the ribs.

“I think your jokes are getting worse and worse,” Hux says grimly. “And if you do buy a snake you’re on your own with it - I’m not going to be out here every night with you catching flies for its dinner, or whatever it is they eat.”

“Sorry,” Kylo says, grinning. “You walked into that one, though. Anyway, I’m probably not going to actually buy a snake. We could get you some new clothes, though. You look really cute in my giant baggy clothes but I’m sure you’re tired of wearing them.”

“It’s okay,” Hux says uncomfortably. He doesn’t want to admit that he’s been rather enjoying wearing Kylo’s clothes - today, he’s in another band t-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans that are probably skin-tight on Kylo, but comfortably loose on him. It gives him a feeling of belonging with Kylo, as though they’re wearing the same uniform. It’s oddly soothing for reasons that he doesn’t particularly want to examine. “I don’t want to take more of your money - I’m sure that spa just cost a fortune.”

“I mean, granted, that was the most expensive single thing I’ve done on this trip yet,” Kylo acknowledges, “but don’t worry, I’ll work it out with my mom. Anyway it was worth it to see you actually relax for a change. Every time I came near you yesterday it was like walking under power lines - the anxiety coming off you practically made my hair stand up.”

“I do feel a lot less like the world is ending,” Hux admits. He has that unsettling feeling again of just wanting to be borne along in Kylo’s wake, of never wanting to make his own decisions again. “I mean, everything is still a disaster, but for some reason I don’t really care as much as I probably should.”

“Lean into the not caring,” Kylo advises. “It’s a good look on you.” He winks at Hux again. “Anyway, I don’t know if I want to give the spa _all_ the credit for helping you relax. I feel like getting a fantastic blowjob this morning probably helped too.”

“Will you be quiet,” Hux hisses, elbowing him again. “I’m sure lots of people here understand English.”

“I’m sure they do, but so what?” Kylo asks, as they climb the stairs towards the Phrom Phong Skytrain station. “This is Bangkok, it’s like New York City. You can stand on a street corner and yell about blowjobs all day long and no one will care. As long as you’re not blocking traffic.”

“Is that where you’re from?” Hux asks, partly to stop Kylo from loudly pronouncing the word _blowjob_ again. Two young women in a kiosk nearby are peering curiously at the two of them, although it might only be because of Kylo’s skirt. “I keep meaning to ask.”

“New York? Yeah, originally,” Kylo says. “My family moved to northern Virginia a couple of years ago - well, me and my mom did anyway. That’s partly why I tried to kill myself.” Hux, startled, wants to ask for more details about this, but isn’t sure how. Kylo bounds ahead, apparently done with the topic. “Hey, check this out!”

Hux follows him, peering into a large metal box on the train platform. It has a single barred window at one end. Hux yelps and jumps back as the thing inside - an animatronic velociraptor, he realizes after a heart-pounding second - swings towards the bars with an unearthly screech. Hux shakes his head. “I’m never going to get used to this city.”

“Don’t worry,” Kylo says, “it’s just an advertisement for that amusement park across the street. And anyway I’ll fight the robot dinosaurs if they try to eat you.” He wraps both arms tightly around Hux from behind and kisses the back of Hux’s neck. Hux squirms, torn between enjoying the attention and feeling that he should push Kylo away. He reminds himself that his father has already found out about him, so the worst has already happened - but his deeply-ingrained habit of hiding still twists painfully in his gut. He glances around anxiously. The two girls from the kiosk are staring openly at them now, but they look more interested than offended. They giggle and look away when Hux meets their eyes.

***

“I think they’ve cleaned this place up some,” Kylo calls over his shoulder, sounding disappointed. “It used to be a lot crazier. I don’t even see any snakes.”

“Uh-huh,” Hux says. It seems more than sufficiently crazy to Hux, as they pick their way through an enormous crowded maze of tiny stalls in the soupy late-afternoon heat. Thus far in their journey, vendors have attempted to interest Hux in purchasing paper made from elephant dung; musical wooden frogs; an enormous variety of scarves and sarongs; ecologically-friendly wallets made of leaves; grilled squid on a stick; carved wooden penises that Hux finds embarrassing even to look at in public; and Buddha sculptures of every possible size and description, in spite of the signs Hux remembers from the airport that sternly warned tourists that “BUDDHA IS NOT FOR DECORATION.” 

So far, only the grilled-squid vendor had succeeded in persuading them to buy anything: Hux chews vigorously on his squid as he tries not to lose Kylo in the crowd. Hux had also been somewhat intrigued by the musical frogs - the vendor had demonstrated that they could, in fact, make a sound remarkably like a frog’s song when you scraped a stick along their carved backs - but Kylo had discouraged him from buying one.

“Those aren’t really a local thing,” Kylo said dismissively. “They sell them to tourists everywhere. I bought one in Israel and I thought it was so cool until I found out that they’re, like, this standard thing that everyone sells to backpackers for some reason.”

“When did you go to Israel?” Hux asked, somewhat disappointed to learn that he had missed this part of the trip. “I’ve always wanted to go there.”

“We could go back sometime if you want,” Kylo said. “I went with Birthright Israel in June, right after I finished high school. It was kind of bullshit though. I wish I’d gone with you, it would’ve been way more fun.”

“Why was it bullshit?”

Kylo rolled his eyes. “Mostly because they kept bugging us to marry nice Jewish girls and move to Israel and have lots of Jewish babies,” he said. “I kept raising my hand to be like, hi, I’m gay! I’m not doing any of that! And they were like, oh, you could still move here and have babies, you’d just have to get married in some other country first though because gay couples can’t get married in Israel. I was like, why would I want to move somewhere where I’ll have _less_ rights than I do at home? It’s dumb.”

“What did they say to that?”

Kylo laughed. “One of the female tour guides was like, oh, it isn’t that gay people don’t have rights, I had to go to Cyprus to marry my husband too. I was like, what? Why? And it turns out that they let the crazy religious authorities handle marriage stuff, so if you’re Jewish and you want to marry a non-Jew, even if you’re straight, you have to leave the country to get married. So if I wanted to marry you, it would be, like, double-triple not allowed.” Kylo looked embarrassed suddenly. “I mean, not that we’re going to get married. But, you know. Just saying.” 

“I don’t know about that,” Hux said. Kylo glanced at him in a startled, interested way. Hux blushed. “I mean, I don’t know anything about Israeli laws.”

“Oh yeah,” Kylo said. “Um, right. Anyway, the craziest part to me was that the tour guide and her husband were both actually Jewish - but her family were refugees from the Soviet Union and so I guess they couldn’t prove to the religious authorities that they were Jews. She said they wanted her to, like, go to Odessa and take pictures of her grandmother’s grave or something to prove it had a Jewish star on it. Like, what the fuck?” 

Hux opened his mouth to say something, but Kylo was still talking loudly, walking backwards to look at Hux, gesticulating with his hands. “Plus, they kept trying to tell us that Israel was the only place in the world where Jews could actually feel safe,” he continued. “I was just like, hi, I’m from New York City, get the fuck out of here with that bullshit. And this guy was like, yes, but even in New York City you wouldn’t feel comfortable to just go up to anyone on the street and say ‘I’m Jewish!’ And I was like, no, you’re right, I totally wouldn’t feel comfortable doing that, but that’s only because it would be a super weird thing to do.” 

Still walking backwards, Kylo collided suddenly with a pole that was holding a blue plastic tarp up over an ice-tea stall. The elderly woman whose stall it was glared at him. Hux laughed. “Uh, sorry,” Kylo said, a bit sheepishly. “I’m talking too much again, I know. I just get really fired-up about stuff, you know?”

“Yes,” Hux said drily, “believe me, I know.”

Now, they’ve come to an area of the market that seems to be devoted to selling miniature things - mostly tiny, realistic replicas of food and flowers, but also furniture and animals and little people in golden headdresses. “I love this stuff,” Kylo announces. “I was hoping we could find it.”

Hux glances sideways at him. “What, do you collect dollhouses or something?”

“No, these are for ghosts!” Kylo says happily.

“For _ghosts_?”

“Well, for spirits,” Kylo amends. “You know all those little houses we’ve seen in front of most of the buildings in Bangkok? Those are spirit houses. I was googling them. They’re for, like, the spirits of the land and for people’s ancestors and stuff.”

“Oh, yeah, I kind of wondered what those were.”

“Yeah! It’s so cool. I love that they have houses for the spirits everywhere here, even in front of, like, the bank and the mall and stuff.” Kylo beams at Hux. “They’re, like, these little pockets of eerieness everywhere you go, you know? I want to buy one to take home.”

“Won’t that be very difficult to transport?” Hux asks, dubiously. 

“Yeah, I’ll have to ship it, I can’t carry it with us.” He squeezes Hux’s hand. “Maybe when we get home we can put a picture of your mom in it, you know, so that her spirit can have a house close to you.”

Hux blinks. He wonders if Kylo expects that Hux will just come to live with him after this trip is over, as if Hux were a stray puppy whom Kylo had adopted on his travels. The idea is both infuriating and strangely comforting. “My mother was a devout Catholic,” Hux says, “so I don’t know if she would appreciate that. But - well, that’s sweet of you.”

“It’s up to you,” Kylo says, poking through a bin full of tiny plastic lobsters and crabs. “Is your dad Catholic too? Is that why he’s so weird about you being gay?”

“No,” Hux says. “Well, he is Catholic, but the same way I am - he doesn’t really believe in anything. He just - he hates weakness, anything that he sees as weak or feminine. He hates women. He hated my mother. And he hates - not just gay men, but men who cry, or wear fashionable clothes, or go to therapy. Anything like that.”

Kylo laughs. “Man, he’d really fucking hate me,” he says cheerfully. “I think I check all those boxes, except being a woman.”

“Yeah,” Hux says morosely. “He hates me, too.” 

“Awww, babe,” Kylo says, abandoning the miniature crustaceans for the moment and pulling Hux towards him. “Come here.” It’s too hot and humid out for it to be comfortable to be pressed up against anyone, let alone someone as large and warm as Kylo; they’re both sweating. But after a moment of internal struggle Hux decides to allow himself to be folded into Kylo’s arms. He breathes out into Kylo’s damp hair. The keeper of the tiny-lobster stall is eyeing them nervously. “At least getting away from him means that you can do all that stuff he hates without worrying about him.”

“Yeah,” Hux says, somewhat muffled against Kylo’s neck. “I guess it’s true that having my whole life blow up in my face means that there’s not much left for me to worry about now.”

“Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose, right?” Kylo says sagely. “My mom loves that song.” He lets go of Hux and steps back, towards a stall that seems to only sell tiny golden umbrellas. “Speaking of doing stuff your dad hates, that reminds me - after we get a spirit house, we should go buy matching sarongs!”

“Oh no,” Hux says, “I was hoping you’d forgotten about that.”

“Of course not!”

***

“I still can’t believe I let you talk me into buying a sarong with skulls on it,” Hux says. 

They’re back at the hotel, lying in bed. As soon as they had gotten back to the room and set down Kylo’s new spirit house (a large, ornate wooden creation that seems to be sharp and pointy from all angles, and which had been exceedingly difficult to bring home on the crowded Skytrain), Kylo had dropped to his knees and reached for Hux’s fly. “I’ve been wanting your cock in my mouth all day,” he said, yanking down Hux’s zipper. 

“Oh - Jesus - _fuck_ ,” Hux groaned, as Kylo sucked him urgently into his hot mouth. Remembering Kylo’s comment from that morning, Hux had clutched at Kylo’s hair and stared up at the ceiling, biting his lip, trying to last. He hadn’t been very successful. Especially after Kylo moaned helplessly around his cock, and Hux looked down to see that Kylo had flipped up his skirt and was stroking himself frantically as he sucked Hux. 

“Those sarongs are awesome,” Kylo says now. “Your butt looks so cute in yours. I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off you.”

Hux rolls his eyes, but feels rather pleased nonetheless. It occurs to him that Kylo has touched him more in the past day than anyone else has in years. “Have you noticed that none of the Thai people we’ve seen just walking around outside are dressed like that? They’re all wearing, like, business clothes.”

“I know,” Kylo says. “That’s okay. We can keep on being the Dumb White Tourist Show, just like on the train, I don’t mind.” Luckily the Thai passengers on the Skytrain that afternoon had seemed more amused than annoyed by their efforts to wrestle an enormous spirit house into the crowded car. 

“You know,” Hux says, “if I traveled forward in time from last week and saw myself with you wearing matching goth sarongs, I’d think it was some kind of glitch in the timeline. Like in the movies when someone goes back in time to kill Hitler and ends up causing the end of the world.”

Kylo laughs. “Well, hey, if our goth sarongs can somehow kill Hitler, then they’re even more awesome than I thought.”

“Can I ask - I know you don’t want to talk about your family, but what does your father think about all this?” Hux asks. “The skirts and makeup and everything, I mean.”

“Oh, he doesn’t care,” Kylo says. There’s a slightly wounded edge to his voice. “I’ve never been sure whether he’s just trying too hard to be a cool dad, or whether he just genuinely doesn’t give a shit about me.”

“Oh,” Hux says, not sure how to respond to this. It sounds enormously preferable to Hux’s history with his own father, but clearly Kylo doesn’t like it. “I’m sorry.”

Kylo shrugs. “It is what it is. And it’s not so much that I don’t want to talk about my family. I’m just so used to being, like, my mom’s disappointing son - it’s been kind of nice to be with someone who doesn’t know me in that context.”

“I’m sure you can’t possibly be more of a disappointment to your mother than I am to my father.”

“Only because your dad is a literal human monster,” Kylo says. “My mom’s reasons for being disappointed in me make a lot more sense.” He’s quiet for a moment. “She’s actually a really good person, you know? I just can’t be a person the way she wants me to be a person. I can’t do what she does.”

“Why, what does she do?”

Kylo sighs. “She’s a politician,” he says. “She was a New York State senator forever, and then she got elected to the House when the representative for our district retired. That’s why we moved to Virginia.” 

“Oh,” Hux says, a little startled. “Wow. Wait - who is she? What’s her name?”

“Leia Organa.”

“I know her!” Hux says excitedly. “Well, I don’t know her, but I know who she is. My father hates her. She’s on the House Armed Services Committee, right? He was just ranting the other day about how she wants to take away commanders’ right to decide whether military sexual-assault cases get prosecuted.”

Kylo laughs. “That’s her,” he says. “And yeah, I haven’t really been paying attention, but sexual assault in the military is one of her big things. I’m sure she’ll be proud to hear that your dad hates her, now that I know what a dick he is.”

“This is kind of hilarious, actually,” Hux says. “I might need to take you home to meet my father sometime just so that I can see the look on his face when I tell him I’m sleeping with Leia Organa’s son!”

“I really hate being introduced that way normally,” Kylo says, “but this is for a good cause. I’ll allow it.” 

“Thanks.”

Kylo pokes his big nose into the side of Hux’s neck. “We should probably fuck a lot more, though, before then. Just to make sure I can tell him I’ve thoroughly corrupted you.”

Hux laughs. “Like you said. It’s for a good cause.”

“Yeah.” Kylo is quiet for a moment. “Speaking of my mom, by the way - what was your mother like? Do you remember her?”

“Only a little,” Hux says. “I remember going to church with her - being bored and smelling incense, that’s what I remember, mostly. And I remember that she would sit with me every night and hold my hand until I fell asleep.” He takes a deep breath, clutching at Kylo. “After she died it always took me ages to fall asleep. I still have trouble sleeping, all the time. I can’t fall asleep, I can’t stay asleep.”

“You know, you can just wake me up if you’re having trouble sleeping,” Kylo says, rubbing his back. “You don’t just have to lie there being miserable. I’ll hang out with you. I mean, it’s not like I have to get up to go to work in the morning.”

“I’ve actually been okay the last couple of nights,” Hux says. “Surprisingly. With all the craziness that’s been going on, I wouldn’t have thought I’d ever be able to get to sleep.”

Kylo lifts his head and looks at Hux with that unnervingly open tenderness again. “I sleep better with you here too,” he says. “Maybe you just don’t like sleeping alone.”

“Maybe,” Hux agrees. Something squirms frantically in his stomach at the idea of needing Kylo in order to sleep. _I can’t be this dependent on someone I’ve known for two days_.

“Well,” Kylo says, “you don’t ever have to sleep alone anymore. I mean, unless you want to.”

Hux bites his lip again, hard. “I don’t,” he admits, with some effort. He presses his face into Kylo’s shoulder. “I don’t want to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings: not much that’s new from the last chapter. There continue to be brief references to Kylo’s suicide attempt and to Brendol’s abusive, homophobic parenting. Nothing graphic. Also, there are blowjobs! (Those are graphic.)
> 
> Many thanks to everyone who left comments or kudos on the last chapter - because of you, I kept on with the story, so I hope you aren’t too disappointed. 
> 
> Also, for anyone who came here for fluffy BenArmie porn and got stuck listening to Hux fretting about condoms and Kylo ranting about his Birthright Israel trip - I am truly sorry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some potentially triggering content, so please mind the tags and see endnotes for detailed content warnings.

“I don’t know why I let you talk me into this,” Hux says, clutching at Kylo’s hand as he looks around warily. The taxi had dropped them off at the end of the street. It’s dark and quiet here under the trees. In the distance, a dog howls plaintively. Something rustles in the underbrush. 

“I talked you into blowjobs and going to a spa and eating squid-on-a-stick and you liked all of those things,” Kylo reminds him. “Just trust me.”

“But all of those things were legal,” Hux objects. “This is - definitely trespassing, at least. Possibly breaking and entering. And for what?”

“Because it’s supposed to be one of the most haunted places in Bangkok,” Kylo responds, squeezing Hux’s hand excitedly. Hux rolls his eyes. “Anyway, who’s going to call the cops on us? The ghosts? I told you, after those teenagers drowned in the pool, the family who used to live here moved away. And then their house burned down. Nobody lives here now.”

Hux shakes his head. “You know how I told you I don’t care about seeing palaces and temples? I think I’ve changed my mind. Let’s go do some kind of normal tourist thing, like a tour of the Grand Palace or whatever.”

“It’s closed. We can go tomorrow if you want.” Kylo tugs at Hux’s hand. “Come on, let’s go before someone comes along and asks what we’re doing. Unless you want to just wait for me here? I’ll try to be quick.”

Hux doesn’t believe in ghosts, but he also has no desire to linger by himself on the deserted street, in the gloom under the rustling trees. “Right,” he says. “‘Let’s split up’ - isn’t that how every horror movie begins?”

“That’s the spirit,” Kylo says, hopping over the cracked concrete wall. “Let’s do this.” 

Hux follows him, more cautiously, feeling relieved that at least he had had the sense to borrow a pair of Kylo’s jeans and combat boots for this adventure. Earlier in the day he had been wearing his new sarong - Kylo had been gratifyingly appreciative of how he looked in it, even though he felt ridiculous - but if he had been wearing it now, he thinks, Kylo would have had to roll him over the wall like a large sausage. 

Kylo’s borrowed boots are too big on Hux, but the heavy leather makes him feel somewhat better about stepping into tall grass in the dark. He wonders if this is the sort of place where snakes live - it seems likely. _Never put your hand or foot anywhere that you can’t see_ , he remembers his father telling him on one of their many treks through tick-infested Civil War battlefields. Possibly, he reflects, this is the one area of his life in which he should have listened to his father. 

“I think we’re supposed to ask the spirits for permission before we go onto their land,” Kylo whispers, looking up at the burned hulk of the old house across the lot. 

“Well, go ahead then,” Hux whispers back. “Asking spirits for things is your department, not mine.”

“Hello,” Kylo calls. “Uh - _sawat dee khrap_. Please let us visit your home safely, we don’t mean any harm, we just want to talk to you - “

“No we don’t,” Hux mutters. A branch snaps suddenly behind him, and he jumps. 

“Yes, we do! I’ve always wanted to talk to a ghost.”

“But why?” Hux asks. 

“I mean, you could learn so much from them.”

“You could just google things, or take a course, instead of summoning the undead,” Hux points out. He swats at a mosquito on his arm. “Although it might be interesting to talk to someone like Einstein, I suppose.”

“Ugh,” Kylo says, striding off towards the ruins of the old house. “You talk to Einstein. I want to talk to Oscar Wilde.”

“Well, I’m fairly certain you’re not going to find him here,” Hux says, grabbing at the back of Kylo’s shirt to slow him down. “How would you even talk to a Thai ghost? Are you going to pull out your phrasebook and try to use the four words you know in Thai to talk to those drowned teenagers?”

“I could probably use my translation app, Thai ghosts seem to be pretty good with technology,” Kylo says. They’re under the eaves of the old house now. Hux peers up at it, wondering if one of the burned timbers might be about to fall on their heads. “I watched a Thai Netflix series where the ghosts kept, like, making prank phone calls and sending threatening text messages and making spooky videos. And at one point this girl freaked out because she got a notification that a ghost had just tagged her on Facebook.”

“Sounds terrifying,” Hux says, trying to sound sarcastic rather than unnerved. The moon has come out from behind a cloud and he can see the pool where presumably the teenagers had drowned; it’s empty, except for a puddle near the far end that looks black in the moonlight. Weeds grow through the cracks in the pale concrete. 

“That stuff in the pool looks like it could be blood,” Kylo whispers dramatically in his ear.

Hux shivers. “That doesn’t even make sense,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady. “If they drowned, why would the pool have blood in it?”

From the other side of the house, there’s suddenly a sound of a gate creaking open. Footsteps crunch in the grass. “Oh shit,” Kylo mutters, pulling Hux into the shadows behind one of the half-collapsed walls. The smell of burned wood and melted plastic is still strong. Hux stands stiffly, trying not to move or make a sound, as the footsteps come closer. 

Kylo wraps his arms around Hux from behind, breathing hotly on his ear. After what seems like a long time, an older man in a brown uniform - a police officer? a night watchman? - walks past them, swinging a flashlight. He doesn’t look in their direction. 

Hux jerks, startled, when he suddenly feels Kylo’s lips on his neck. He elbows Kylo sharply. Kylo giggles, but doesn’t move away; instead, he presses up against Hux more firmly from behind. “What are you _doing_ ,” Hux hisses, as the man with the flashlight recedes into the distance. Kylo gropes at Hux’s chest with both hands, pinching at his nipples through his thin cotton shirt. “What aspect of this situation could possibly have made you think about sex?”

“Everything,” Kylo says, moving his lips over the sensitive skin just behind Hux’s ear. He’s getting hard, rubbing up against Hux’s ass through their jeans. “I told you I wanted to write erotic horror.”

“So this is - what - research for your novel?” Hux pants, as Kylo bites down hard on the curve where his neck meets his shoulder. He’s still teasing at Hux’s nipples, rolling them between his fingers, and it’s making it difficult to think. Hux bumps his hips back, half-intending to shove Kylo away, but pushing his ass harder against Kylo’s erection has the opposite effect. Kylo groans, clutching at Hux more urgently. “Won’t this piss off your ghosts? I feel like we’re the idiots who die first in a horror movie.”

“Maybe the ghosts like to watch,” Kylo suggests, sliding his hand down over Hux’s stomach to squeeze his cock through his jeans. Hux exhales sharply. “Anyway, if I get killed by a Thai ghost while I’m sucking your dick, that sounds like the perfect way to go for me.”

“Not for me,” Hux chokes out. Kylo is sucking on a particularly sensitive bit of his neck as he slowly works open the buttons of Hux’s fly. “I am _not_ into that.”

“Yeah? Kind of seems like you are.” Kylo’s warm, knowing hand is wrapped around Hux’s cock now, squeezing it and stroking it. Hux moans helplessly, rocking back and forth, thrusting into Kylo’s fist and rubbing back against the bulge in his jeans. “You - _fuck_ \- you want me to stop?”

“No,” Hux admits, letting his head fall back onto Kylo’s shoulder. “God - _fuck_ \- your hands are so big - everything about you is too big - “

“You seem to like it,” Kylo breathes into his ear. 

“You’re just now noticing that?” Hux is writhing against Kylo now, trapped between Kylo’s hard body and Kylo’s hand stroking him. He feels overheated, short of breath. He hears himself whimper and wonders if anyone is close enough to hear the sounds they’re making.

Kylo bites down on Hux’s neck again. He’s trembling now, breathing hard. “Fuck,” he whispers, “I’m going to come in my pants just listening to you. Tell me when you’re close?”

“I’m close,” Hux says immediately and Kylo lets go of him, spinning him around and dropping to his knees. He sucks Hux’s cock into his mouth, swallowing around it, making little pleased sounds in his throat. Hux’s back arches; his knees go weak. He sinks his fingers into Kylo’s thick hair and comes with a groan. 

“Mmm,” Kylo sighs, as Hux tries to catch his breath. His hands are shaking as he buttons up his jeans. “You taste so good. And you look so hot dressed like this - I love those boots on you. Can you, uh. Can you do something for me?”

“What?” Hux squints down at Kylo in the darkness; he can’t quite make out the expression on his face.

“Can you - could you step on me?”

Hux raises his eyebrows, surprised. “Step on you? Like - “ He lifts one foot tentatively, putting his hands on Kylo’s shoulders for balance.

Kylo grabs Hux’s ankle and pulls his boot down between his legs. “Yeah - _fuck_ \- like that - “

Hux presses the heel of his boot lightly into the bulge in Kylo’s jeans. Kylo whimpers, grinding up against it. “Really? You like that?” 

“Yes - don’t stop - “

“You’re so strange,” Hux says. He pushes down harder, and Kylo whines deep in his throat, clutching at Hux’s ass with both hands. “I don’t even know why I indulge you like this. I should just make you wait to come until we get back to the hotel. As punishment for dragging me out here.” 

Kylo lets out a choked-off sound, his hips jerking against Hux’s boot. “Yeah - keep talking - “

“Is this your thing where you think it’s hot when I insult you?” Hux asks, flexing his ankle to roll the sole of his boot along the shaft of Kylo’s cock. 

“Yes - _ngh_ \- “ Kylo’s harsh breathing sounds loud in the quiet darkness. 

“You’re incorrigible,” Hux says, then wonders if that might be too much of an SAT word for the occasion. He tries to think of something suitable from the porn he’s watched. Being insulted is the last thing Hux could ever imagine enjoying, so he doesn’t have much to choose from. “You like humiliating yourself like this?” Kylo groans, his shoulders shaking under Hux’s hands. “Getting down on your knees in the dirt, begging me to step on your cock - are you going to come in your pants just from this?” Kylo yelps, his body spasming. He breathes out raggedly, sagging forward against Hux. “Is that a yes?”

“Uh, yeah,” Kylo says, muffled against Hux’s thigh. Hux maneuvers his foot carefully back onto the ground. “Fuck, that was hot.”

Hux strokes Kylo’s hair, feeling both bemused and rather proud of himself. “Aren’t you going to be very uncomfortable now? We’ve got a long cab ride back.”

“Okay, I may not have thought this all the way through,” Kylo admits. He laughs, his face still buried against Hux’s leg. “Honestly, the idea of being forced to come in my pants and then having to walk out of here like that seemed really hot a couple of minutes ago, but - “

“But now you actually have to do it it seems less fun?” Hux laughs, shaking his head. “You absolutely deserve this; I have no sympathy.” Kylo stands up with a groan, dusting off his knees. “I’m surprised you’re not worried about having some sort of curse put on us. Isn’t all of this very disrespectful to your ghosts?”

“They probably got a kick out of it,” Kylo says, taking Hux’s hand and beginning to walk back towards the road. He’s walking rather awkwardly, stiff-legged, and Hux laughs harder. “I mean, it was two teenage girls who drowned here - they probably enjoyed watching us.”

Hux grimaces. The back of his neck prickles at the idea. “I don’t even want to know why you would think that.”

“It’s a whole thing,” Kylo says cheerfully. “There’s a whole genre of Thai soap operas that are basically just an excuse for women to watch hot guys making out with each other. I know because I watch them. And didn’t you see those girls at the train station ogling us yesterday?”

Hux shakes his head again. “Like I said, I’m never going to get used to this place.”

“You’re doing fine,” Kylo says soothingly. He turns and waves a hand in the direction of the empty pool. “Have a good night, ladies! Hope you enjoyed the show!”

Hux rolls his eyes. “You’re ridiculous. If they do decide to put a curse on us I can hardly blame them.” 

“Nah, they won’t,” Kylo says, squeezing Hux’s hand. “I feel like there’s good energy here. I think they like me.”

“I’m glad to hear you’re making friends,” Hux says. “But if you want to come back and visit them again, you’re on your own.”

“Maybe they’ll come home with us,” Kylo says enthusiastically. “Sometimes that happens in the Thai ghost stories on Netflix. That would be so cool.”

“That would be absolutely the opposite of cool.”

“Why? I’d love to have a ghost girl posse to travel around with.”

“Sorry,” Hux says firmly, “but if it comes to that, it’s me or the posse of ghosts. Not both.” 

Kylo pouts. 

***

“Hey,” Kylo says sleepily, “what’s going on? You’re all over the place.”

“Sorry, I can’t sleep,” Hux says. He looks at the bedside clock; it’s 3:33 AM, blinking red. “I’ll try to stay still.”

“It’s okay - something wrong?”

“No,” Hux says. Kylo nestles closer to him, pressing his face into Hux’s neck. “Not really. I was just thinking - I wonder if my father is even looking for me? I went to all this trouble to get as far away as possible - I was so sure he’d try to hunt me down, but maybe he actually just wanted me to leave.”

“He’s a dick,” Kylo says. “It’s not your fault either way.”

“I know,” Hux says. “I - can I borrow your phone? I left mine behind because I thought he’d use it to track me. But I wonder if maybe he e-mailed me or something.”

“Yeah, sure,” Kylo says, unlocking his phone and handing it to Hux. Hux sits up in bed, leaning against the headboard; Kylo wraps his arms around Hux’s waist and closes his eyes again.

Hux opens his inbox; there is in fact an e-mail from his father waiting for him. He glances briefly at the subject line and then looks away. His heart thumps painfully in his chest. There are also, somewhat surprisingly, several emails from Mitaka - in the first, he mostly sounds annoyed that Hux has missed an important chemistry lab, but the later emails are increasingly panicked-sounding. 

Hux doesn’t think of Mitaka as a friend, exactly; he’s been a reliable lab partner since Hux arrived in Korea sophomore year, and sometimes they do homework at each other’s houses. But he isn’t a _friend_ \- not like Phasma, who is the only person Hux has ever come out to, other than Kylo. Granted, it was only because Phasma guessed his secret and told him to stop being ridiculous, but still. Phasma is a friend. He scrolls through his inbox, but there’s nothing from her; he tries not to feel hurt by this. After all, she might have been trying to text or call his abandoned phone.

Eventually he opens his father’s e-mail - it isn’t long - then quickly closes it again. Hux looks up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly. His throat feels raw. 

To distract himself, he opens Kylo’s browser window. Apparently Kylo has been googling “Thai penis shrines.” Hux fights the urge to laugh, feeling rather hysterical. _Why am I not surprised_ , he thinks. _I guess now I know what we’re doing tomorrow._

Kylo seems to have gone back to sleep; he’s snuffling gently next to Hux. Glancing at him rather guiltily, Hux googles “Leia Organa’s son.” Several images that seem to be campaign photos pop up immediately - old pictures, mostly, of a much younger Kylo with his parents. He’s small and scrawny and mostly nose, but still with the same shaggy mane of thick dark hair. He looks unhappy. 

Apparently Kylo’s real name is Benjamin. Hux makes a mental note not to reveal to Kylo that he knows this. Hux also notes that Kylo’s father is very attractive: _another thing to definitely not mention to Kylo_ , he thinks. In every photograph Kylo’s father is looking at the camera with the same amused, ironical expression, as if the photoshoot is a joke that no one else has seen the point of yet. 

Kylo stirs next to him, and Hux hastily closes the window. “Sorry,” Kylo says sleepily, “didn’t mean to pass out on you. Everything okay?”

Hux shrugs. “I guess.”

“Did you hear from your dad?”

“Yes,” Hux says, trying to sound calm, “I had an e-mail from him. The subject line was ‘Don’t come back,’ and it went downhill from there.”

“Oh, babe,” Kylo says, sounding pained, “I’m so sorry.” He tugs Hux down to lie pressed against him. “I know it sucks. But you’re going to be okay. You’re better off without him.”

“Yes, well,” Hux says into Kylo’s chest, still clutching the phone, “I haven’t got much choice about that. He says that since I’m eighteen, he doesn’t regard himself as having any further obligations to me, and that if I go back to Korea he’ll have me arrested for stealing his wallet.”

“I’m so sorry,” Kylo says again, stroking Hux’s back very firmly, rubbing his big hand along the bumps of Hux’s spine. “But I got you. You’ll be okay. Don’t worry.”

“Thank you,” Hux says, pushing Kylo away and sitting up again, “but I need to make a plan. I can’t just - just rely on your generosity forever.” _Or on your mother’s generosity, really_ , he thinks. 

“Sure you can. And I’m not really being generous anyway - I want you here.”

“No, I can’t,” Hux says. His voice sounds increasingly shrill and frantic in his own ears. “I - I could enlist in the army, probably. Although they might not take a drop-out. But maybe I could get my GED. West Point is out of the question now, of course, but if I enlist I might be able to transfer there eventually - or use the GI Bill to go to college - “

“Please don’t do any of that,” Kylo says urgently, sitting up next to him and grabbing his hands. “Really, please, just listen to me. Don’t do any of that - just come with me. See the world. When we go back to the US you can finish high school, get your GED, whatever. All of that will still be there.” He pauses briefly. “And, I mean, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing with my life either. We can figure it out together.”

“Your mother’s not going to be willing to keep paying my bills forever.”

“She won’t have to,” Kylo says. “I’m sure you’ll eventually get your degree in robots or whatever and make a kajillion dollars. Then you can pay her back by taking me off her hands. I’ll be your trophy husband. I mean, I’m never going to be able to get a job.”

Hux shakes his head, putting his hands over his face. “Kylo,” he protests, “I met you less than a week ago.”

“I know, I know, I come on too strong,” Kylo says dolefully. Hux drops his hands and looks at him; his eyes are large and dark in the dim light. “Everyone’s told me that my whole life. I mean, I’m kidding anyway about the trophy husband thing. Kind of.”

“It’s okay,” Hux says, touching Kylo’s cheek. “I guess if you were a more normal kind of person I’d probably be sleeping under a bridge somewhere.”

“You would not. You would’ve figured something out.” Kylo leans over to kiss the side of Hux’s neck. “You know what would definitely make you feel better, though?”

“What?” Hux asks cautiously. 

“If I suck your cock,” Kylo says brightly. “I hear that makes everything better.”

“Not right now,” Hux says. Kylo looks immediately wounded. “I just - I feel kind of sick right now. My stomach hurts."

“Oh, I get that from stress too,” Kylo says. “Just lie down.” Reluctantly, Hux does. Kylo puts an arm around him and pulls him close, nestling his face into Hux’s neck. “You know what else we should do?”

“What?”

“If your dad’s going to be this much of a dick about you being gay, we should celebrate by being as gay as possible. Like, all day.” 

Hux laughs. The pain in his midsection unclenches a bit. “You’re the expert - how do we do that?”

“Well, we can hang out in bed together for as long as we want, for starters,” Kylo says. “Then there’s this penis shrine I want to go to.” 

“Of course there is.”

“And maybe this evening we can go to a gay bar. You should let me dress you up.”

“I’ve never been to a nightclub,” Hux says dubiously. “I don’t think I’ll like it.”

“How do you know if you’ve never been?” Kylo demands. “I mean, Bangkok’s famous for clubs. I wasn’t really planning to go to any of them because I didn’t want to go by myself, but now that you’re with me I think it’d be fun. And if it sucks we can always flee the place together.”

“I guess.”

“And at some point when you’re feeling like it you should definitely let me blow you,” Kylo continues. “That’s a really important part of today’s gay agenda.”

“Naturally,” Hux says, stroking his hair. “I wouldn’t have expected anything less.”

They lie curled together in silence for a long moment. Hux lets his breathing match Kylo’s, trying to calm down. Kylo closes his eyes, and Hux wonders if he’s fallen asleep again. Then Kylo says, suddenly, “You know, I really like your cock.”

Hux laughs. “Thanks,” he says drily. “I grew it myself.”

“See, you can make dumb jokes too,” Kylo says triumphantly. He squeezes Hux tightly. “I knew you had it in you. But yeah - I especially like that you’re not circumcised, you know? It makes it a lot easier to give you handjobs in random places.”

“Like haunted houses?” Hux asks. “Please don’t make a habit of that, I don’t need to be cursed by Thai ghosts on top of everything else that’s gone wrong with my life.”

“Oh all right,” Kylo says, “if you insist. I was going to say, I kind of wish I wasn’t circumcised now, it just seems more convenient. And fun.”

“Really, you wish _your_ cock was more like mine?” Hux shakes his head. “Definitely wasn’t expecting to ever hear that.”

“Why not? I told you, I really like your cock.”

“Never mind,” Hux says. “Just don’t become one of those guys who stands outside the Smithsonian with fake blood on his crotch shouting at tourists about how circumcision should be illegal.”

“I won’t,” Kylo says. “I only put fake blood on my crotch and yell at people for aesthetic reasons, not political ones.”

“You’re so odd,” Hux says. He goes on stroking Kylo’s hair. Kylo is breathing softly against his neck. “Kylo?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something personal? You don’t have to answer.”

Kylo laughs. “We’re naked in bed together and I was just monologuing about how much I love your dick,” he says. “I think at this point it’s safe to say you can ask me whatever the fuck you want.”

“Okay,” Hux says. He swallows. “Why did you try to kill yourself?” Kylo breathes in sharply and doesn’t respond. “Never mind, forget I asked.”

“It’s okay,” Kylo says. He’s quiet for a moment. “I mean, it was a lot of things. Like, I told you we moved to Virginia when my mom got elected, right? So we wound up moving in the middle of my junior year of high school.”

“That must have been fun.” Over years of military moves Hux has developed a talent for making himself as invisible as possible in each new school, but it seems highly unlikely that Kylo would ever have been able to do the same. 

“Yeah, it sucked balls,” Kylo says. “And not in the good way. Especially because in New York I had been at this really small school for artsy kids, so I could, like, do interpretive dance for class presentations and wear eyeliner and whatever and no one was bothered. I mean, my grades always sucked, and I wasn’t super popular or anything, but I had a pretty great group of friends. We used to build Gundam models together. And there was a guy who seemed maybe into me, I was trying to get my nerve up to hit on him when we moved.”

“Oh?” Hux tries not to sound as if he cares about this particularly. 

Kylo laughs. “Don’t worry, he’s not the One Who Got Away or anything. More like The Awkward Handjob That Maybe Could’ve Happened, you know? Anyway, once we moved it was just bad, really bad.”

“What happened?”

Kylo sighs. “So, like, at first it was kind of fun that people at my new school seemed really shocked by me,” he says. “You know, you practically had to blow something up to shock anyone at my old school. But my new school was, like, all these preppy suburban kids. They looked at me like I had three heads.”

“We lived in Arlington for a while when my father was at the Pentagon,” Hux says. “I can imagine.”

“Well, I wish you’d been at my school,” Kylo says. “No one wanted to talk to me. Sometimes they’d say something stupid. This one guy came up to me at lunch and was like, ‘You know, the way you dress, you look gay.’ He didn’t even seem like he was trying to insult me - it was like he thought it’d be news to me. Like he was letting me know I had food on my shirt. I was like, ‘Yeah, no shit, that’s exactly why I dress this way - so everybody knows I like to suck dick.’”

Hux laughs. “What’d he say?”

“He just walked away,” Kylo says. “Then over spring break, this girl invited me to a house party - I was kind of afraid it was a set-up, but I went anyway.”

“Oh no.” Hux feels his stomachache threaten to return. 

“Yeah. At first it was okay. I did a bunch of shots. I got drunk really fast and I remember feeling like things were great, like I was finally meeting cool people. I probably said a bunch of stupid shit, who knows, whatever came into my head.” 

“I can’t possibly imagine _that_ happening.”

“Shut up, this is my sad story, you’re not supposed to be mean to me,” Kylo says, poking him in the ribs. “Be mean to me later when you’re stepping on my dick, okay? Anyway, so, at the party - this popular guy, this soccer player, told me he needed to talk to me. I was kind of suspicious but I was like, sure, what’s up? And he pulled me into one of the bedrooms and kissed me.”

Hux raises an eyebrow. “Do I really want to hear this part?”

“I don’t know,” Kylo says unhappily. “So we were making out, whatever, and I was like... fuck, this is amazing! But then I started to feel like I was going to throw up so I shoved him away and ran for the bathroom. When I came out I couldn’t find him, and I could barely walk, so I called my dad and went home.”

“That’s your sad story? That you were too drunk to get it up for some soccer player in high school?” Hux asks, somewhat annoyed.

“No! Just listen. That was just the start. I guess some of his friends heard about it somehow, or saw us, and started giving him shit about it - so he told everyone that I came onto _him_. Like, that he had to fight me off or some bullshit.” Kylo takes a deep breath. He sounds as if he might about to cry. Hux pats his back, not sure how to console him.

“Anyway,” Kylo goes on, “so - after that, it was awful, everyone acted like I was, like, this crazy pervert or something who might just jump them out of nowhere. I kind of leaned into it, actually.” He laughs a little, sniffling. “I started telling people I got kicked out of my old school for stabbing someone, or for setting fire to the place, stuff like that. And I started lifting weights all the time. Like, trying to be as scary as possible.”

“That does sound awful,” Hux agrees, not knowing quite what to say. He squeezes Kylo’s arm. “I will say I’m enjoying the results of the weightlifting, at least.” 

“That’s the one good thing that came out of it, then,” Kylo says, sounding somewhat cheered. He flexes his bicep under Hux’s hand. “You know, I bet I could lift you up and fuck you against the wall? I mean, if you’re into that.”

Hux blinks. “That was a rapid change of subject.” 

“Not really, I was talking about your cock to begin with,” Kylo says. “You’re the one who changed the subject. Anyway, does that mean no?”

“I might be into that eventually,” Hux says, considering the prospect. “But I feel like you’d probably split me in half if we tried to do that right now.”

“Why would you say that?” Kylo asks innocently. He presses his lips against Hux’s ear.

Hux laughs. “Is this your way of trying to get me to talk about how gigantic your cock is?” Kylo makes a little sound in Hux’s ear, squirming on the bed. “It is, isn’t it. You really do seem to love it when I tell you how big you are.”

“Do you like it?” Kylo asks. Somehow it sounds like a sincere question.

“What, your cock? Of course I like your absurdly oversized cock,” Hux says, almost annoyed. He shifts to rub his thigh against it; Kylo’s already getting hard. “You look like every porn star I’ve ever jerked off to. Bigger than some of them.” Kylo whimpers and bucks his hips. “At this rate I’ll soon have to start looking up synonyms for ‘huge’ in the thesaurus, since apparently it turns you on so much.” Kylo whines softly, grinding against Hux’s thigh. Hux wonders what else to say. “Do you just want me to talk about how enormous you would feel inside me? How I don’t even know if I could take it?”

Kylo groans. “I’d get you ready,” he says, breathing unsteadily. His cock is beginning to leak stickily onto Hux’s thigh. “I’d eat you out, finger you - please let me do that? I want to make you feel _so_ good - you don’t even have to let me fuck you, you don’t even have to let me come - “

“Maybe I won’t,” Hux says. Kylo is mouthing at his neck, his big fingers feeling for Hux’s nipples. “That would be a fun game - to see how long you could go without being allowed to come.” Kylo lets out a frantic little squeak; his body jerks against Hux. Hux wonders how to get him to make more of those noises. “I’d still let you suck me off, of course. Maybe occasionally I’d let you rub up against my foot, if I was feeling generous. Would you like that?”

Kylo makes a half-strangled sort of sound, almost a sob, as he grinds against Hux’s thigh. “ _Please_ \- fuck, you’re so hot - “

Hux smiles. Having this sort of power over Kylo makes him feel dizzy, almost invincible. “Please what?”

“Please - can I suck you off now? Please - I need it - “

“Yes, you may as well go ahead,” Hux says, pushing Kylo’s head down, “since you’ve been good.”

***

Afterwards, Hux stops by the window on his way back from the shower (Kylo had finished off by begging to be allowed to come on Hux’s chest: “I thought you wanted me to not let you come,” Hux said; Kylo responded with an incoherent, frustrated noise and pleading eyes, and Hux had relented). 

Outside, the sky is beginning to get light. A line of monks in yellow robes proceeds ceremoniously down the narrow alleyway under the window, stepping carefully over the broken concrete in their sandals. Hux watches as they collect alms from the women at the massage parlor across the street.

Kylo is propped up on his elbow, watching Hux from the bed. “I guess I never finished telling you why I tried to kill myself,” he says.

Hux winces. “I thought you had,” he says. “I hope there weren’t even more awful things after what you already told me about.”

“Not really,” Kylo says. He looks down at the mattress; even without makeup, his eyelashes are very long and dark against his pale skin. “It was all that, what I told you - and then just the fact that I couldn’t imagine anything that I could do with my life that would ever make me happy, you know? I remember I was home alone on a Saturday night. I was supposed to be working on college applications and I was just like... I don’t want to do any of this, I don’t want to be any of these people. So I went and found my dad’s painkillers, where he’d hidden them, and I took everything that was left in the bottle.”

“I’m sorry,” Hux says. He moves towards Kylo, then remembers the damp towel around his waist and pauses awkwardly by the edge of the bed.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Kylo says, grabbing Hux’s hand and pulling him down into his arms, damp towel and all. “I’m just saying, I’ve been there, I know what it’s like to not know where your life is going. But I’m still here, you know? I started writing - that helped. I wrote this story about a sex demon and they put it in the school literary magazine.” Hux laughs. “Seriously! And then I got to go on this trip. And I met you.”

“I suppose I see your point,” Hux says, squirming to pull the damp towel out from under himself, “although I don’t think I’m going to start writing about sex demons.”

“You never know,” Kylo says. “Maybe if I jerk you off in a few more haunted houses you’ll get inspired.”

“Oh no,” Hux says, “please don’t.”

Kylo yawns. “You know what you really should do with your life?”

“Does this mean you’ve figured it out for me and you’re going to tell me?”

“Yes,” Kylo says. “What you should do is, you should pick up the phone over there on the nightstand and order more of that breakfast soup. I’m starving. And then we should both go back to sleep, maybe for the rest of the day - you wore me out.”

Hux laughs. “I thought today was supposed to be the day we spend being extra-gay all day.”

“Eating breakfast soup and lying in bed together is an important part of the gay agenda,” Kylo insists. “And then the next item on the agenda, more important than the penis shrine even, is that we should go buy you your own pair of combat boots.”

“So that I can have my own properly-sized footwear when I step on your cock?”

“Exactly,” Kylo says, kissing Hux’s damp hair.

***

“I guess at least it looks like this place will be gayer than the penis shrine,” Hux says, that evening, as he eyes the line to get into the club. “Hopefully. I felt like an asshole even being there.” 

“Why?” Kylo asks, patting his back reassuringly. “That lady there was so nice to us.” 

“I don’t think she was really being nice,” Hux says. “I think she was politely calling us out for being idiots, and then she just decided to go along with your ridiculousness.”

“Kind of works out to the same thing in the end, though,” Kylo says cheerfully.

“No,” Hux says, “it really doesn’t.”

The penis shrine had been, improbably, located on the grounds of a luxury hotel, where they had wandered fruitlessly through the beautiful gardens until Hux thought that he might be about to collapse from heatstroke. The sky overhead was perfectly blue and cloudless, like the screen of a computer that had crashed, and the afternoon sun was so intense that every time they stepped out from under the flowering trees Hux felt as if he were being baked alive.

“I’m going to ask that guy,” Kylo said, waving his guidebook in the direction of an unfriendly-looking security guard with a bristling grey mustache.

“Ask him what?” Hux said, feeling mortified by the very idea. “Are you really going to plug ‘take me to the penis shrine’ into your translation app?”

“No, I’m just going to show him the name of the shrine. It’s written in Thai in the book.” 

“Oh fine,” Hux said, still embarrassed, “I suppose that makes sense.”

The security guard had seemed entirely unsurprised by Kylo’s request; he pointed them in the right direction without even the slightest change in his unhappy facial expression. His thick uniform was soaked in sweat, and he seemed as if he were probably much more distressed by the enervating heat than by the presence of strange foreigners who wanted to worship penises. 

Once they got near it, the shrine was hard to miss: it consisted of a small but vibrantly-colored garden of carved phalluses. Some were tiny, barely finger-sized; others were ten feet tall or more, looming overhead. Many of them had faces - some smiling, others enigmatically serene. They were wrapped in lengths of colored silk and festooned with flowers. In the center of this assemblage was an ornate teak spirit house. 

The scent of incense and smoke hung in the hot, still air. A young woman was kneeling on the ground in front of the spirit house, apparently praying; an older woman, possibly her mother, was standing near her, rubbing her shoulder. Hux hung back, not wanting to disturb them. Kylo was reading a sign by the entrance. “This place is really interesting,” Kylo announced loudly.

Hux looked at the sign as well. It explained in English that the shrine’s resident spirit, Mae Tubtim, was known for her ability to help women get pregnant. Anyone who wanted to have a baby was supposed to come and leave an offering of a carved penis, and then once the baby was born, they were supposed to bring another to give thanks. 

“So much for you thinking this was about worshiping dicks,” Hux whispered to Kylo. “Maybe we should leave. What are we doing here?”

But the older woman had spotted the two of them, and was waving them over, smiling broadly. Kylo walked towards her; Hux followed him, reluctantly. “ _Sawat dee khrap_!” Kylo said cheerfully. The young woman glanced over her shoulder and stood up hastily, wiping her face with her hands. Hux realized, to his horror, that she had obviously been crying. Now she seemed to be trying to hide behind her mother. Hux, likewise, tried to make himself as small as possible behind Kylo. 

“ _Sawat dee kha_ ,” the older woman responded, still smiling, pressing her palms together in greeting. Kylo returned the gesture, bowing his head rapidly several times - _like a chicken_ , Hux thought, feeling annoyed at him for having dragged them into this situation. It occurred to him to wonder if the young woman had been crying because she was having trouble getting pregnant, and he wanted to be a thousand miles away immediately.

The older woman said something else in Thai, then, obviously realizing that “hello” was all the Thai they knew, switched to English. “Welcome, welcome! Are you hoping to have a family soon?”

“Yes,” Kylo said, sincerely, glancing at Hux. Hux flushed an even deeper shade of red under his sunburn, feeling doubly mortified now. “I mean, I feel like creating a family of your own is the most important thing, you know?” 

The daughter sniffled. Kylo, finally noticing her tear-streaked face, looked alarmed. “Are you okay?” he asked her, anxiously. She turned slightly away without responding, looking at the ground, as if she were trying to make herself invisible by avoiding eye contact.

“Yes, yes,” the older woman said, still smiling at him. She stepped forward to squeeze his arm. Her daughter shrank further back towards a corner of the shrine. “So sweet. So handsome, too! Both of you.”

“Thank you,” Kylo said. “ _Khawp-khun khrap._ ”

“ _Geng mak_ , so smart,” she cooed, patting his bicep. “If you want to pray, you can buy the incense over there.” She gestured towards a donation box on the ground. “I can show you what to do.”

“That’d be awesome,” Kylo said, beaming back at her, “thank you so much!”

“Of course,” she said, “no problem.”

“Why are we now praying to get pregnant?” Hux muttered in Kylo’s direction as they went to get the incense. “We should’ve just minded our own business and left these people alone. I feel like we’re intruding.”

“She told us to come in,” Kylo whispered back, “don’t stress about it. And what’s wrong with praying to have a family?”

Hux had no answer to that.

***

Now, looking at the other men waiting to get into the club, Hux feels once again embarrassed and out of place. Against his better judgment, he had allowed Kylo to dress him for the evening in a kilt and a strategically-ripped black t-shirt. And, although he had refused to wear eyeliner or mascara (“Why not? Everyone looks better in mascara, it makes your eyes pop!”), he had allowed Kylo to tease up his hair and dust silvery glitter around his eyes. 

Meanwhile, the look in the line for the club seems to be more sleek and tailored than glam or goth. The only other people Hux has seen wearing glitter eyeshadow are a group of blond tourist girls who are bouncing excitedly near the door. _At least I finally have shoes that fit_ , he thinks, _even if I look stupid in them_. His new steel-toed combat boots - purchased from an enormous and bewildering indoor mall that had included an aquarium, a Maserati showroom, and a zombie-themed pop-up cafe - feel reassuringly sturdy, as if they would allow him to stomp his way through any obstacle. “Have you noticed that everyone else here is wearing, like, a collared shirt and jeans?” he says to Kylo. “I feel like an idiot.”

“Why, because you look hotter than everyone else?” Kylo asks. The man standing in line in front of them turns to look the two of them up and down, raises his eyebrows expressively, and turns away. Kylo ignores him. “Why would that bother you?”

“I’m not like you,” Hux says uncomfortably. “I don’t go around trying to shock people.”

“This isn’t the Vatican, this is a gay club in Bangkok,” Kylo says. “No one here is going to be shocked by a guy wearing makeup and a kilt. Anyway, I’m not just trying to freak people out - I want to be beautiful. And you look beautiful, too. Look.” He wraps an arm around Hux from behind and holds up his phone with the camera open, snapping a picture of the two of them. “See? Look how pretty we are. Just relax and enjoy it.”

Hux looks at the photograph. They do make a rather striking pair, he is willing to admit - his orange hair against Kylo’s black hair, their identically glittering faces, the wings of Kylo’s eyeliner and his obscenely red mouth. In the picture, Kylo is winking at the camera, pursing his full lips into the shape of a kiss. Hux’s own expression is cooler, harder to read, but there’s something he likes about the tilt of his chin. _I look like I’m not scared_ , he thinks. All of a sudden he feels oddly proud of himself. 

“Give me the phone for a minute?” he says, taking it from Kylo. “It just occurred to me that I never wrote back to my father.”

Kylo looks startled. “You’re writing back to him _now_? Do you want to - uh, go somewhere private or something?”

“No,” Hux says firmly. “It will only take a moment. I’m just going to send him this picture and tell him to go fuck himself.”

Kylo laughs, hard. “You’re amazing,” he says. “I really mean that. I’m so happy you’re here with me.”

Hux looks up at the flashing neon lights over the door of the bar. The warm evening air smells pungently of fish sauce and cigarettes. Just down the street, three drag queens in sequined dresses are dancing together in front of a boombox, laughing and calling to passers-by. He glances at Kylo, at Kylo’s open, unguarded face. “Yeah,” he says, taking a deep breath, “so am I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings: 
> 
> \- Homophobia: Hux receives an email from his father telling him not to try to come home. Also, Kylo describes some homophobic bullying he experienced in high school, including an incident in which he was falsely accused of sexual assault. That’s also the “brief reference to sexual assault” tag - no actual assault occurred but I didn’t want to blindside anyone. Kylo was also drunk at the time this happened.
> 
> \- Referenced Suicide Attempt: Kylo talks more about why he tried to kill himself, including the bullying referenced above. No graphic details but he does say that he overdosed on painkillers.
> 
> \- Underage drinking: Kylo briefly mentions getting very drunk at a party in high school.
> 
> \- Semi-public sex: They have sex in a burned-down house that’s supposed to be haunted. No one sees them.
> 
> \- Boot worship: apologies to anyone who read Destination Unknown, but Hux is once again in combat boots and stepping on Kylo’s dick. Sorry, I told you this was my self-indulgent fic. 😂
> 
> Also: if you’re interested in watching the Thai TV shows Kylo references, you can find “ThirTEEN Terrors” (ghosts) and “Bangkok Love Stories: Innocence” (hot guys making out, among other things) with English subtitles on Netflix. The Line TV app also has a lot more Thai BL content, but most of it doesn’t have English subtitles. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see chapter endnotes for detailed content warnings.

“A silent retreat? Are you serious?”

“I told you, you don’t have to do it,” Kylo says. “I can just get you a room at a hotel and I’ll come meet you afterwards.”

Hux doesn’t want to admit that he would rather not be separated from Kylo. “Thirty-six hours of silence isn’t going to be difficult for me,” he says. “That’s just a better-than-average weekend at my father’s house. But I can’t imagine you wanting to do it.”

“Why not?” Kylo grins. “Because I never shut the fuck up?”

“Yes - never mind thirty-six hours, I don’t think you’ve ever been silent around me for thirty-six seconds,” Hux says. “Except when you’re asleep, or when my cock is in your mouth. And I assume they frown on blowjobs at monasteries.”

Kylo laughs. “I’m sure we wouldn’t be the first,” he says. “You keep a bunch of guys cooped up together for long enough, you’re bound to have a certain amount of blowjobs eventually. But - anyway, that’s part of the point. To, like, reset my brain. If I were quiet all the time anyway a silent retreat wouldn’t be that big of a deal.”

“I suppose,” Hux says, doubtfully. “Please promise me at least that there won’t be monkeys at this monastery. I’m all right with thirty-six hours of silence and no blowjobs, but I really can’t handle any more monkeys at this point in my life.”

Kylo laughs again. “I guess I can’t promise you a total absence of monkeys, but I won’t try to feed them this time. I can promise you that at least.”

***

The day before, they had gone to the train station to buy tickets for the overnight sleeper train to Chiang Mai, where the monastery was located. As they stood in line, Kylo elbowed Hux. “Hey,” he said, “there’s a train leaving for Lopburi in a few minutes. Want to go there for the day?”

“Why, what’s in Lopburi?”

“Temples and an art museum and stuff, I think. I remember the guidebook said it’s one of the best day trips from Bangkok - the train ride is supposed to be nice. Views of rice paddies and stuff.”

Hux shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

Hux began to regret his easy acquiescence to this plan as soon as they boarded the train to Lopburi. It was a third-class car, crowded with families and their bundles. There was no air-conditioning, and the heat inside the car was intense. They found an empty bench and sat down; just as the doors closed, an elderly woman with a large suitcase squeezed onto the end of the bench next to Kylo. Outside, vendors held up trays of food to the open windows, calling to the passengers. Kylo leaned out to buy two skewers of fried shrimp and a bottle of orange soda. He offered one skewer to Hux, but Hux, feeling faintly nauseous from the heat and the smell of fried grease, waved it away.

Once the train began to move, the wind through the open windows made the temperature more bearable, but it also blew dust and fumes into the car. The metal wall rattled bruisingly against Hux’s hip. 

Kylo, meanwhile, seemed entirely unbothered. He had offered Hux’s rejected shrimp skewer to the elderly lady next to him, who had accepted enthusiastically and reciprocated by opening a large Tupperware container of dumplings to share. Now they were tearing through a bag of rice snacks and chatting - about points of interest in Lopburi, apparently - through Kylo’s translation app. It pronounced their translated remarks aloud in a stentorian and vaguely menacing robotic monotone, which both Kylo and his new friend seemed to find hilarious. Every so often, Kylo looked up to elbow Hux and exclaim about the beauty of the golden-brown farmland outside. “Yai Bua says the reason the rice is so tall is that they’re almost ready to harvest it,” he reported to Hux.

“Thanks for the tip,” Hux said, thinking, _No shit_. “You’re on a first-name basis now?”

“‘Yai’ means ‘grandma.’ She told me to call her that.”

“You do seem to have a knack for rapidly bonding with the most random strangers,” Hux remarked. 

“Well, sometimes I get lucky,” Kylo said, squeezing Hux’s knee. 

When, at length, they rattled into the station at Lopburi, Hux looked out to see an enormous plastic monkey waiting for them on the platform. It was wearing a blue jacket and holding a sign written in English and Thai. “‘Monkey City,’” Hux read. “‘Famous Monkeys.’ I thought you said we were here to see temples?”

“We are.” Kylo waved his guidebook at Hux. “Yai Bua says we should go to this temple that she showed me on the map - she says all the _farangs_ really like it.”

“What’s a _farang_?” 

“You and me. Foreigners. Like the Ferengi on _Star Trek_.”

“Oh good,” Hux said, “I’ve always wanted to be a slightly threatening alien.”

As they walked into town, the monkeys were a much more prominent presence than temples. They were everywhere - indolently scratching themselves on mailboxes; running along power lines overhead; lounging on street corners, casually displaying their yellow fangs and pink genitals. Hux eyed them warily. “This is so cool,” Kylo exclaimed. “Take a picture of me with that baby monkey there?”

“If you want,” Hux said reluctantly, taking Kylo’s phone, as Kylo moved much closer to the monkey in question than Hux thought advisable. Kylo let out a small shriek as the shutter clicked - the monkey had reached into his pocket, extracted a forgotten rice snack, and leapt away with a snarl. Hux laughed helplessly. 

“This is an awesome picture, actually,” Kylo said enthusiastically, leaning over Hux’s shoulder to look at it. “Me getting pickpocketed by a monkey! I’m framing this one when we get home.” 

“People will probably think it’s a family portrait, there’s definitely a resemblance.” In the photograph, Kylo and the monkey’s faces were frozen in nearly identical expressions of shock and anger, their mouths open as they stared at each other. 

“Shut up,” Kylo said, nudging Hux affectionately. “Anyway, we’re all basically monkeys. Nothing wrong with getting to know my cousins out here.”

Hux made a face. “Lucky your cousin didn’t bite you, at least. Don’t those things carry rabies?”

“Oh yeah, they have tons of diseases,” Kylo said cheerfully. “Like herpes. Did you know you can get monkey herpes? Apparently it’s really bad, too.”

“Ugh,” Hux said. “I really don’t want to know how you learned this.”

“One of the Marines in Korea told me. He said when they were in Afghanistan, one of his buddies got herpes from a monkey and almost died. And then after he recovered his girlfriend dumped him because she didn’t believe he actually got it from the monkey biting him.” 

Hux laughed. “Well,” he said, “if there’s anyone who’d probably be an expert on getting herpes from a monkey, it would be a Marine.”

As they walked up the hill, an enormous golden statue of a monkey came into view. “Oh no,” Hux said, as Kylo headed towards it, “is that where we’re going?”

“I think so, yeah,” Kylo said, squinting. “That looks like the temple behind it.”

Hux sighed. “With you, I suppose I should have known it would be a monkey temple. Does it have ghosts, too? Or giant penis statues?”

Kylo laughed. “We can only hope,” he said, as they walked towards the gate. “Honestly, though, look how awesome this place is! It looks like - like _Tomb Raider_ or something.”

“It does, a bit,” Hux agreed. The three stone towers of the temple looked unimaginably ancient, as if they had been standing there slowly eroding since the dawn of time. It reminded Hux of photographs that he had seen of Angkor Wat, although it was much smaller. “And - oh my god, I’ve never seen so many monkeys in my life.” The field in front of the temple was swarming with them, as if it were wearing a furry brown coat. Their heads snapped up as Kylo and Hux approached them. Many pairs of round pink-rimmed eyes regarded them beadily. This animal smell seemed to wash over Hux in waves. “Are we really going in there?”

“Just for a few minutes,” Kylo said, squeezing Hux’s hand. “This is so cool.” 

“If you say so,” Hux said doubtfully. 

At the gate, an older man with a wad of chewing tobacco stuffed in his cheek offered to sell them a bag of food for the monkeys. “Yes please,” Kylo said immediately, reaching for his wallet. 

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Hux interjected.

“Why not? It’s only twenty baht, that’s not even a dollar.”

“Not because of the money,” Hux said, but Kylo had already paid. The man handed Kylo a large stick along with the bag of food. The monkeys were already surging towards them. “I mean, what do you think that stick is for?”

“Here, you take it,” Kylo said, handing it to him. “You can protect me from monkeys, since you’re so worried. Here, monkeys!” He scattered a handful of food pellets on the ground, and the monkeys swarmed over it, screeching and batting at each other. 

One of the smaller monkeys was edging closer to Hux. Hux shook his stick half-heartedly at it. The monkey, apparently having determined that he was not a serious threat, suddenly seized the end of the stick in its little clawed hands, ran up the stick - Hux screamed - and leapt from Hux’s chest to Kylo’s arm, where it seized the bag of food and bounced away. Other monkeys leapt hopefully after it.

Kylo was laughing. “Dude!” he said. “What happened to protecting me from the monkeys? You were supposed to be my bodyguard.”

“Sorry,” Hux said, trying to catch his breath, still feeling the monkey’s tiny cold hands on his chest. “I - “

“Holy shit!” Kylo yelped, as another monkey suddenly jumped onto his back. “What the fuck!” Hux swung his stick like a baseball bat, narrowly missing Kylo’s head. The monkey snatched Kylo’s phone out of his hand and bounded off. 

Hux, feeling rather self-conscious about his shortcomings as a bodyguard, sprinted after it. It was a large grey macaque, with a nasty-looking scar across its pink face, and it occurred to Hux only belatedly that he had no idea what he would do if he managed to catch it. The monkey stopped short at the foot of the temple, and Hux nearly fell over it. He jabbed his stick in its direction. “Drop that!”

The monkey raised its lip at him contemptuously, and put the phone in its mouth. It bit down. Then it dropped it into the dirt, as if it had found it didn’t care for this particular flavor of phone. Hux snatched up the phone and returned to Kylo. It was noticeably damp from the monkey’s mouth, and there were now visible toothmarks in the black-and-red leather case. 

“Here,” Hux said, making a face, as he wiped it off on his jeans and handed it back to Kylo. “The good news is that the case protected the screen. The bad news is that I’m pretty sure your phone has monkey herpes now.”

Kylo laughed. “Thanks!” he said, pulling Hux in for a kiss. “My hero.” Hux rolled his eyes, feeling rather pleased nonetheless. “And this bite mark on the case is awesome - you can see the fangs! It’s way more goth now.”

“I’m starting to think it was a mistake to object to your ghost-hunting,” Hux remarked. “At least ghosts don’t bite you. Or give you herpes.”

“And if they did, it would be great material for my novel,” Kylo said cheerfully.

***

“I’m glad at least that this train has air-conditioning,” Hux comments, as they board the sleeper train to Chiang Mai. “And cushions. I was a little worried after yesterday.”

“I know, you’re not really a backpacker kind of tourist,” Kylo says, looking at Hux warmly. “You’re more, like, a high-end luxury kind of tourist. I just don’t really have the budget for that right now.”

Hux reddens. “I’m not complaining,” he says crossly. “Obviously. I’m very grateful - it’s just - “

“It’s okay, it’s cute how much you enjoy stuff like that fancy spa we went to,” Kylo says, attempting unsuccessfully to stuff his enormous backpack under his seat. “And you don’t have to keep telling me how grateful you are. Honestly, I wish you wouldn’t. It makes me feel weird, like I’m like - like your sugar daddy or something.”

Hux glances around uncomfortably, wondering if the family of happily-chattering Chinese tourists across the aisle might have understood Kylo, but they don’t appear to be paying any attention to him. 

Kylo is still talking. “I mean, I guess that’s probably some people’s fantasy, but it’s not really mine.” He balances his backpack precariously in the aisle and looks up at Hux with a grin. “I’d much rather be your sugar baby, actually. Now _that_ would be hot.”

“Shhh,” Hux hisses, mortified. 

Kylo rolls his eyes. “What?” he says. “I’m just saying, when you become a billionaire tech guy or whatever, you can buy me pretty things and make me dress up for you. And we can go to fancy spas all the time. But right now you need to stop thanking me every five minutes.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Hux whispers as they sit down, facing each other. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Okay,” Kylo says reluctantly, looking out the window. The train is slowly making its way out of the station into the neon-lit haze of an overcast Bangkok evening. “I guess I’m just saying - I’m not, like, forcing you to be with me, right? I kind of worry about that sometimes. Like, that you don’t feel like you have a choice.”

“You do choose the oddest places to have these sorts of conversations,” Hux says, exasperated. In response Kylo only looks at him; his dark eyes are large and anxious. “And no. Of course you haven’t forced me to do anything. I’m perfectly capable of saying no to you if I’m so inclined.” 

Kylo grins. He leans back in his chair, spreading his legs deliberately at Hux. He’s wearing his black pleated skirt again, and it’s riding up over his muscular thighs. “So what you’re saying is that you would’ve wanted to fuck me no matter how we met.” 

Hux glances at the Chinese family again and kicks Kylo’s ankle, trying not to let his eyes drop to Kylo’s groin. “I would have thought that must be obvious. But I suppose you like to make me say it.”

“I do,” Kylo agrees. He rubs his bare knee against Hux’s. “But I like it even more when you show me. Why don’t you come over here and sit on my lap? You’re so far away over there.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Please?”

“You just said that you were worried I wouldn’t feel comfortable saying no to you,” Hux reminds him. “This is me, right now, saying no. So now you don’t have to worry.”

Kylo pouts. “I guess it’s lucky I think it’s hot when you’re mean to me.”

***

“Hux?”

“What?” 

It’s several hours later, and Hux is lying in the upper bunk, which had folded improbably out of his seat (“Like a Transformer,” Kylo had said, impressed). He’s tired, but the incessant metallic clanking of the train is keeping him awake; also, although he doesn’t want to admit it, his difficulty sleeping might have something to do with the fact that it’s the first night he’s spent without Kylo in his bed since he left home. 

Now Kylo is poking his head through the curtains around Hux’s bunk; his face is a pale smudge in the dimness. “I miss you. Why don’t you at least try to get in with me?”

“These bunks are barely big enough for one person,” Hux protests. “We won’t fit.”

“You can lie on top of me. And the bottom bunk has the window - you can see the sunrise over the mountains in the morning.”

“I don’t want to see the sunrise,” Hux says. “I want to be asleep then.” But he finds himself climbing down. He eyes the narrow lower bunk suspiciously. “How exactly do you propose to do this?”

Kylo lies down on his back, holding out his arms invitingly. Hux is still fully dressed except for his shoes, out of respect for the potentially delicate sensibilities of other people on the train, but Kylo has stripped down to his boxer shorts. “Like I said. Just lie on top of me.”

Hux crawls in awkwardly, narrowly missing Kylo’s groin with his knees as he tries to get comfortable. “I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. It’s like we’re sharing a coffin.”

“Sharing a coffin is very goth, I’m into it,” Kylo says, yanking the curtains closed. “Isn’t this so much better now? It’s like our own little private world.”

“It’s not as bad as I thought it would be,” Hux admits. His head is on Kylo’s shoulder, his hand on Kylo’s chest; their legs are tangled comfortably together. It’s absurdly cramped, but the heat of Kylo’s body is soothing away the anxiety-pain that always seems to settle in his stomach whenever he has too much time to think about his current circumstances. 

His thumb brushes over Kylo’s nipple, and Kylo jerks underneath him. “Do that again?”

“You like that?” Hux asks, squeezing a handful of Kylo’s pec, then pinching sharply at his nipple. He can feel Kylo starting to get hard against his thigh.

“You know I do,” Kylo says, breathing shallowly. He turns his head to kiss Hux, sliding his hot tongue urgently into Hux’s mouth, reaching down to grab Hux’s ass and arch up against him. “Fuck - “

“We probably shouldn’t do this here, though,” Hux whispers, squirming enjoyably in Kylo’s hands. “People will hear us.”

“I can be quiet.”

“No, you can’t, I know you.” Hux pinches both of Kylo’s nipples at once, and Kylo lets out a half-strangled yelp. “See?”

Kylo groans, rolling his hips against Hux’s. “Is this you saying no again? I feel like I’m getting mixed messages here.”

“No mixed messages,” Hux whispers, breathing rather unsteadily into Kylo’s ear. “We shouldn’t do this. But I still like playing with your - your - “

“My tits?” Kylo laughs. “You just like torturing me, that’s all.”

“Maybe,” Hux admits, wriggling lower, wanting to get his mouth on Kylo’s chest. He licks delicately at Kylo’s nipple, flicking it with his tongue, rolling the other between his fingers. The salty taste of Kylo’s skin fills his mouth. He bites down, and Kylo moans out load, bucking his hips. His hard cock digs into Hux’s stomach. “You’re being much too loud.”

“Sorry,” Kylo whimpers, “please don’t stop - “

“I think I might,” Hux says, lifting his head and squirming back up to kiss Kylo, wrapping his legs around Kylo’s waist. Kylo squeezes his ass, grinding their cocks together, panting into Hux’s mouth. “I can’t possibly let you go on like this. You’ll wake up the whole train.”

“What about you?” Kylo whispers, laughing softly. “You’re just as hot for this as me. Don’t lie.”

“But I’m better at being quiet than you are,” Hux whispers back. “And you’re the one who likes it when I’m mean to you. It would be so fun to just refuse to let you come.” They’re rubbing against each other, both breathing hard. Every movement sends another shock of heat up Hux’s spine. He squeezes Kylo’s pecs with both hands again and runs his tongue around the inside of Kylo’s ear. Kylo whines softly, his big fingers digging into Hux’s ass. “Maybe I’ll just keep teasing you for days... you’d be so sensitive. Begging for it.” 

“That’d be so hot,” Kylo gasps. “I could wear my skirt, with nothing underneath - you could just slide your hand under it to tease me, stroke my balls, keep me hard for hours and hours. In public. Let everyone see how crazy you make me - “

Hux breathes in sharply. His cock throbs furiously, trapped between their bodies. The buttons of his jeans are digging into him uncomfortably. “I don’t want to come like this,” he says under his breath. “Can you - “

“Anything you want,” Kylo pants. “Do you - “

“Turn on your side,” Hux whispers, rolling off Kylo, turning to face away from him, squeezing into the narrow space between Kylo’s body and the wall. Kylo obeys, wrapping himself obligingly around Hux from behind. Hux grabs Kylo’s hand and pulls it down between his legs. “I want to come in your hand - please - “

“Fuck, yeah,” Kylo whispers, fumbling with the buttons of Hux’s fly. After a moment Hux pushes his hand away impatiently and does it himself. As soon as his fly is half-undone, Kylo yanks Hux’s jeans and underwear down below his hips, and presses up against Hux’s bare ass with a groan. Hux opens his mouth to tell him to be quiet, but then Kylo’s warm, strong hand is on his cock, squeezing and stroking him, and whatever he had been planning to say comes out as a gasp. “Guess you changed your mind about how we shouldn’t do this, huh?”

“I never said I’d changed my mind about not letting you come,” Hux pants, thrusting hard into Kylo’s fist. “I just decided that I wanted it - ah, _fuck_ \- “

Kylo is breathing raggedly onto the back of his neck, grinding his cock into Hux’s ass. “So that’s what you want - you want me to get you off? And then you’re going to just leave me like this?”

“Yes,” Hux hisses back. “You’ll have to earn it - make me come again and again - then maybe I’ll let you come on my chest - or in my mouth if you’re good - “

“At the hotel later,” Kylo whispers, his hand still moving hotly on Hux’s cock, “you could tie me up, fuck me, fuck my face - or ride me till I can’t stand it anymore - you could punish me if I come without your permission - “

Hux clamps his hands over his mouth and squeezes his eyes shut, gasping, as his cock spurts into Kylo’s fist. Kylo is still grinding against him, making little distressed-sounding noises into his ear. 

_What a mess,_ Hux thinks. He has a sudden inspiration. “Lick your hand clean,” he orders Kylo, wondering if he’ll actually do it. Kylo lets out a small high-pitched sound and obeys immediately, licking his palm loudly, his hips jerking spasmodically against Hux. “You like that? You like licking up my come?” 

“Oh fuck,” Kylo groans, much too loudly; his back arches and his body goes rigid. Then he relaxes against Hux with a sigh. “God, you’re hot.”

Hux can feel wet warmth beginning to seep through Kylo’s boxer shorts, where Kylo is still pressed against his bare ass. He squirms away slightly. “You’d better go change,” he whispers. “I guess trying to figure out how to clean yourself up in a tiny train-car bathroom will be your punishment for coming without my permission. Hopefully nobody heard you; I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay quiet.”

Kylo laughs. “If you don’t want me to come in my pants, then don’t rub your cute little ass up against my dick and order me to clean up your come with my tongue,” he whispers back. “That’s like the sex equivalent of justifiable homicide.” He slides out of the bunk and begins rustling through his bag.

***

Hux rattles awake the next morning as light begins to glow through the window. His arm has gone numb, trapped under his body. He squirms to get into a more comfortable position. “Hey,” he says, as Kylo stirs and mutters unhappily. “It’s your sunrise. Didn’t you want to be awake for this?”

“Mmm,” Kylo says sleepily, nuzzling at the back of Hux’s neck. Then he seems to come more awake. “Oh wow, yeah. Look at that.”

Outside, the flat rice paddies of central Thailand have been replaced by spiky jungle-covered mountains. The train seems to be going uphill at a rather alarming angle. Dense greenery rattles against the window, opening unexpectedly here and there to give way vertiginously to views of the steep slopes. 

“It’s like magic,” Kylo is saying, “like we went to sleep and then we woke up in a whole different world.”

“That’s typically what happens on an overnight train, or so I hear,” Hux says, “you go to sleep in one place and you wake up in another. I believe that’s sort of the point.”

Kylo nips at his neck. “See, this is why it’s good we’re both going to this silent meditation retreat,” he says. “You need to practice turning off your sarcastic brain so that you can just, you know, _be_.”

“Oh? And what are you going for, then?”

“I suppose you think I’ve already spent enough time turning off my brain.”

“You said it, not me,” Hux says. He squeezes Kylo’s hand. Admittedly, there is something rather wonderful about nestling against Kylo as they watch the sun come up over the jungle. The pink light burns slowly through the mist that drifts around the strange trees.

“Wake up, wake up,” the train attendant shouts suddenly, rapping on the bunk’s metal frame. “Breakfast!”

“Okay,” Kylo says meekly, pulling open the privacy curtains. The attendant - a stout older woman in a beige uniform, pushing a trolley of breakfast trays and violently orange drinks - looks rather amazed to see both of them peering out at her from the tiny bed. She shakes her head, laughing.

***

“We just got here and I already feel like an idiot,” Hux announces, looking at himself unhappily in their dorm room’s small mirror. When they arrived at the monastery, a kindly, round-faced monk had informed them that they were expected to wear all-white clothes for the duration of the retreat. 

“I don’t even own any white clothes,” Kylo said, looking crestfallen, “are we still allowed to be here?”

“ _Mai pen rai_ , no problem,” the monk responded soothingly, “we can lend to you.”

A different monk had looked the two of them up and down skeptically and handed them two packages of clothing marked EXTRA LARGE SIZE. Hux’s outfit is clearly intended for someone considerably shorter and fatter than he is: the boxy white shirt is enormous on him and makes him look as if he might possibly be pregnant. The white fisherman’s pants have to be cinched in around his hips, and they stop short well above his knobby ankles.

Kylo is laughing. “You look cute,” he says, somewhat unconvincingly. “And, I mean, it’s fine. It’s a monastery, not a club. Who cares what we look like?”

“Easy for you to say,” Hux says gloomily. Kylo’s pants are also too short, but at least his broad shoulders and chest fill out the shirt attractively. “You look like you’re making some sort of New Age fashion statement. I look as if I just escaped from an institution where they don’t trust us with belts or shoelaces.”

Kylo laughs again. “Maybe you were locked up there for being too hot,” he suggests. “Don’t stress.”

Outside, the other guests at the retreat are wandering through the tidy garden, occasionally exchanging smiles. A few of them nod at Kylo and Hux. Hux notes unhappily that almost everyone else seems to have brought their own, properly-fitted white outfits; only Hux looks as if he’s wearing a hospital gown. “I guess the silent part has started?” he whispers to Kylo, who only shrugs. Hux bites back a sigh. 

The sun overhead is very hot. The concrete burns under Hux’s bare feet. Shoes had not been part of the all-white outfit, and no one at the monastery seems to be wearing them; Hux hops unhappily from one patch of shade to another until a monk comes to usher them into a high-ceilinged white-and-gilt hall. Everyone kneels down on what seem to be prayer mats. From one end of the hall, a large golden Buddha gazes down on them impassively. People have left bottles of soda as offerings for the Buddha, with straws helpfully inserted. Hux eyes them jealously, wishing he had thought to bring a drink.

“We begin with the breathing,” says a monk at the front of the room. Hux fidgets uncomfortably through a series of breathing exercises: after years of running track, kneeling on the thin prayer mat is unbearable for his knees. He glances over at Kylo, whose eyes are closed; he looks irritatingly serene. Hux wonders how many of the designated thirty-six hours are meant to be spent in this position. _And not even for fun reasons_ , he thinks.

“If you aren’t comfortable, you can sit with your legs crossed,” the monk says, looking at Hux. “The Buddha teaches us that enlightenment doesn’t come from suffering.” Hux shifts immediately to sit more normally, rubbing his aching knees. He feels both relieved and annoyed that the monk had noticed his discomfort. 

“Now we clear our minds and focus on our breathing,” the monk says. Hux gazes into the middle distance, feeling more hot and thirsty than meditative. The sides of the hall are open, but the breeze has died down and the humid air is very still. A large metal fan in one corner only occasionally turns in Hux’s direction. 

With nothing else to do, Hux’s mind circles back to the e-mail his father had sent him, as if he were poking at a sore. Telling his father to fuck off had made him feel briefly exuberant at first, then intensely anxious. He had been afraid that he might have provoked his father to take some sort of action against him - reporting the stolen wallet to the police, for example. But being entirely ignored is possibly worse. 

_Don’t come back._ It still seems incredible to Hux that after all these years of trying to control every minute detail of Hux’s life - the clothes he wore, the precise length of his hair, the way he walked and spoke and shook hands - that his father should simply let go, as if Hux were a marionette whose strings his father no longer cared enough to hold. Hux’s throat feels raw at the thought. 

“Sometimes your brain is like a stubborn buffalo,” the monk announces. “You have to wrestle it back onto the right path.”

Hux looks out at the bright sunlight, trying to determine from the length of the shadows whether any significant amount of time has passed. It occurs to him that he no longer knows what day it is. Kylo had mentioned wanting to go to a Halloween zombie parade in Chiang Mai soon after the retreat, so it must be nearly the end of October. He remembers suddenly that most of his paperwork for West Point is due on November 1st. _Well, so much for all that_ , he thinks. His father had been so proud of him on the day that his acceptance letter came in the mail, just weeks earlier. _What a lot of wasted effort. His, and mine._

Hux glances over at Kylo, who is still kneeling, his eyes closed and his face startlingly calm. Hux remembers staring at his own narrow bare chest in the foggy mirror at their hotel in Bangkok, thinking, _I don’t know how to make him want me._ Now, he supposes, he seems to have figured it out, at least for the moment - but Kylo’s interest in him still seems like a very thin thread to hang his whole life upon. In spite of the various discomforts of the monastery, Hux still feels glad that he isn’t waiting in a hotel somewhere, wondering if Kylo might have decided not to come back for him. _Kylo wouldn’t do that_ , he tells himself. But then, of course, Hux also had not expected his father to cut him off. He suddenly feels as if he can’t breathe. 

_I can’t just sit here like this_ , he thinks. _I can’t do this._ He gets up as quietly as possible and steps past Kylo towards the garden outside. 

When Kylo comes looking for him some time later, Hux is sitting under a tree, drinking from a cold bottle of water, feeding fish snacks to a skinny grey cat, and feeling much recovered. He had originally purchased both the water and the snacks for himself from a cart just outside the monastery gate, but the salty fish taste had been too strong for him. The cat seems to appreciate it, however.

“Are you okay?” Kylo whispers. “We can leave if this is making you miserable.”

Hux waves him away. “I’m fine, I have excellent company,” he says, as the kitten nuzzles at his hand. “Much better company than you. Go back to your silent kneeling.”

In the evening, after a very quiet vegetarian dinner in the monastery’s dining hall, they go back to their dorm room together. Kylo lies down on one of the two twin beds - separated, Hux had noted with some annoyance, by a very heavy and immovable-looking wooden dresser - without saying anything to Hux. He stares up at the ceiling thoughtfully.

_I guess we’re still being silent, even in here_ , Hux thinks, trying not to let his irritation show on his face. He heads into the bathroom to shower. As he flips on the light, he bites down hard on his lip, trying not to scream: one wall of the bathroom is crawling with tiny black beetles. There are hundreds of them. They look like a moving curtain of dusty jet beads. 

Hux takes a deep breath. Kylo had been in the bathroom earlier in the day and had apparently been unbothered by the beetles - or at least not bothered enough to break his silence - so Hux decides that he is perfectly capable of being equally stoic. Gritting his teeth, he showers as briefly as possible, trying not to crunch any beetles underfoot. A few of them fly experimentally into the shower stream, their little dark wings whirring like tiny helicopter blades. He swats furiously at them.

Kylo is still staring beatifically at the ceiling when Hux emerges from the bathroom. He barely glances in Hux’s direction, even though Hux has strategically placed his towel as low as possible on his hips. _Haven’t you had enough staring into space for one day?_ Hux thinks, annoyed. At length Kylo looks over at him and smiles. Hux resists the urge to throw something at him.

Kylo gets up and goes into the bathroom. Then he comes crashing back out. “What the fuck!” he yells. “There’s, like, a million fucking bugs in there!” 

Hux bends over double, laughing. “I thought you knew about the beetles! You were in there earlier today.”

“No - what the hell! Maybe they come out when it gets dark. Were you just in there, like, bonding with them or something?”

“I just figured that if you weren’t bothered then I wouldn’t say anything either. You always say I complain too much.”

“Oh my god,” Kylo says, “I wouldn’t have given you shit for complaining about this! I mean, this is a _lot_ of beetles. Like, I don’t know if we need an exterminator or an exorcist.”

Hux laughs. “Exorcisms seem like something you’d be into. Maybe give it a try.”

“I’m really more into summoning demons than casting them out,” Kylo protests, but he goes back into the bathroom and turns on the water. Hux stands in the doorway, watching and laughing, as Kylo attempts to shower while twitching nervously away from the moving wall of insects. Then some of the beetles begin making tentative forays towards Hux. He quickly slams the bathroom door and retreats to one of the beds, pulling the frayed cotton sheet over his naked body. He unlocks Kylo’s phone and checks his e-mail. There are two more messages from Mitaka, but nothing from his father. 

When Kylo comes back out, he looks at the two twin beds, frowns, and squats down by the heavy dresser that separates them. He picks it up in one smooth motion and moves it to the other side of the room. Then he pushes the two beds together, drops his towel on the floor, and flops down naked on top of Hux. “Hey,” he says, grinning.

“You’re very heavy and damp,” Hux objects, squirming underneath him, but he’s trying not to smile. Kylo rolls obligingly off him, putting his head on Hux’s shoulder and wrapping an arm around Hux’s chest. “Does this mean we’re allowed to speak now?”

“Maybe in here, yeah,” Kylo says. “I was going to try to keep up the silent meditation thing all night, but those beetles kind of snapped me out of it. Anyway, I wanted to ask - were you really okay today? We don’t have to stay all day tomorrow if you’re feeling very oppressed.”

Hux shrugs. “It’s fine. It’s just not for me. Anything to do with religion makes me feel like - like my skin is on too tight.”

“But they’re not asking us to believe in anything,” Kylo objects. “One of the monks was talking about that. He was like, you know, we don’t think the Buddha was a god, just a great teacher, so we want to listen to his teachings.”

“If they don’t think he was a god, then why are they giving sodas and mangos to sculptures of him?”

“He talked about that. He said it’s just to show respect to their teacher, not because they literally think the sculpture wants a Fanta. He was like, we’re not trying to convert you, you can still be Christian or Jewish or whatever, we just want to share what we’ve learned from the Buddha about how to live a better life.”

“Well, by all means, go learn all about it, but it doesn’t work for me,” Hux says, a bit shortly. “I’ll go for a run tomorrow and play with the cat - that will be much more meditative for me than kneeling on a hard floor for hours.”

“We did walking and standing meditations too after you left,” Kylo says, “but you know I do enjoy kneeling.” He kisses the side of Hux’s neck, nuzzling at his ear. Hux lets out a little happy sigh. “And I’m glad you found that cat, you looked really cute playing with it. Maybe we can get a cat when we go home - would you like that?”

Hux feels a sort of cracking inside him at the thought of going home - wherever that is - to Kylo and a cat. His eyes sting. “I’ve always wanted a cat, actually,” he says, rather unsteadily. “My father wouldn’t let me have one.”

Kylo rolls his eyes. “Let me guess - he thinks cats make you gay or something?”

“I think that was part of it, yes.”

“Homophobic parents are so weird,” Kylo says scornfully. “It just seems like so much extra effort, you know? Like, back when we lived in New York, I used to have to babysit my little cousin all the time and she’s basically 100% feral. I’d practically have to sit on her to keep her from burning the house down. I can’t imagine doing all that kind of normal parenting stuff _and_ having the time to stress about whether getting the wrong kind of pet or the wrong color baby blanket or whatever will make your son want to suck dick.”

Hux laughs. Then he sighs. “I suppose my father doesn’t have to worry about that anymore.”

“Yeah, because he sucks at life,” Kylo says, squeezing him. “I guess he never responded to your fuck-off email?”

“No. I don’t know why I care, honestly. There’s no logical reason why it should matter.”

“Of course it matters,” Kylo says, “he’s your dad. I think unfortunately we’re kind of programmed to give a shit what they think, no matter how moronic they are. I’m sorry, though.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah.” Kylo squeezes Hux’s shoulder. “Anyway, to make up for dragging you here - want a massage? I mean I’m not a professional massage artist or whatever, like those ladies at the spa, but I’m hotter than them and I have bigger hands.”

Hux laughs. “Sure.” He turns over onto his stomach, under the sheet, propping his head on his folded arms. “Isn’t this one of those things that we’re not supposed to do while we’re here?”

“I’m sure the Buddha would be fine with me giving you a massage,” Kylo says amiably. He yanks the sheet off Hux and kneels over him, straddling his lower back. “We’re supposed to show compassion to all living beings.”

“I suppose that explains why we’re compassionately sharing our bathroom with several thousand of our closest beetle friends,” Hux says. He hums in pleasure as Kylo’s strong thumbs dig into the tight muscles at the base of his neck. “Do you think we could go to a spa in Chiang Mai? Maybe not an expensive one?”

“Actually I was reading that one of the things people like to do in Chiang Mai is go to the prison and get massages from prisoners.”

“Are you serious? That sounds horrible.”

“It’s not horrible! It’s supposed to be, like, a training program for them. So they can give massages professionally when they get out.”

“Ugh,” Hux says. It comes out half as a groan, as Kylo presses his fingers into a sore spot under Hux’s shoulder blade. “Isn’t there anywhere else we could go?”

“There’s a hot spring in the mountains that’s supposed to be really nice. We could go check that out.”

“Mmm, that sounds better,” Hux says, closing his eyes as Kylo’s warm hands move down along his spine. Kylo is straddling his ass now; his cock isn’t entirely soft. “Although I probably won’t be able to jerk you off in a hot spring like I want to, because it will end up being full of nice Thai grandmas and you’ll spend the whole time on your translation app with them learning about the rice harvest or whatever.”

“You want to jerk me off in a hot spring?”

Hux laughs. “Trust you to focus on the important part of what I just said.” 

“Well, yeah.” Kylo moves lower, spreading Hux’s legs and kneeling between his thighs. He squeezes Hux’s ass, massaging the muscles with his thick fingers. “I mean, I know what it’s like to chat with Thai grandmas through an app. I want to hear more about handjobs in a hot spring.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Hux says, squirming enjoyably in Kylo’s grip, “but that was about all there was to it. We sit in a hot spring, I jerk you off. Nothing elaborate.”

“Yeah? Maybe you should make something up.”

Hux rolls his eyes. “I thought this was supposed to be my chance to relax for a bit, not an opportunity to entertain you with erotic fantasies.”

“Everything is an opportunity to entertain me with erotic fantasies,” Kylo says cheerfully. His thumb slips between Hux’s cheeks and brushes lightly over his hole, and Hux shivers. “Go on.”

“Isn’t that against the rules here?” Hux says, trying to sound unaffected. “It was on that sign, the one that said ‘no alcohol,’ ‘no thin pants,’ and ‘no spaghetti straps’ - ‘no sexual misconduct.’ We’re probably not even supposed to talk about handjobs in here.”

“Fine, fine,” Kylo says, letting go of Hux’s ass and standing up. “I’ll behave myself.”

“I’m just giving you a hard time, I really don’t care about their rules,” Hux says, looking over his shoulder. “Go back to what you were doing, that felt good.”

“No, now I feel like a bunch of angry monks are watching me,” Kylo says. He pulls a pair of clean boxer shorts out of his bag. “I’ll still give you a massage, but I’m keeping my pants on.”

“You really don’t have to do that.” Hux can still feel that teasing touch, and he wants more of it. His body burns. 

“Sorry,” Kylo says, grinning, “you convinced me. I don’t want to be disrespectful to the Buddha.”

Hux groans and buries his face in his arms. 

***

“Hey,” Kylo says, coming in through the door and tackling Hux onto the bed. “It’s been thirty-six hours, I’m officially allowed to talk again. What’d you end up doing all day?”

“You’re very sweaty,” Hux complains, wrinkling his nose, but he doesn’t push Kylo away. “Like I told you - I went for a run, then I went to get lunch and came back to give some of it to the cat. And then I got sort of involuntarily adopted by this very chatty older Scottish lady. The one who was sitting near you the first day. Apparently her husband is the one who wanted to come on this retreat, and she’d had enough of it.” 

Hux doesn’t mention that when she explained this, he had laughed and responded, without thinking, “Actually my boyfriend did the same thing to me.” The fact that he had referred to Kylo that way so casually - and to a total stranger, too - is still squirming uncomfortably in his stomach. 

Kylo grins. “So you two were commiserating?”

“Yes. They had just come from some sort of course on elephants out near the Burmese border - they’ve been living with the elephants for three weeks, apparently, and she wanted to tell someone all about it. Did you know that white elephants are a symbol of royalty in Southeast Asia? And that it’s partly because they looks like rain clouds?”

“I didn’t, but I guess I know now.”

“I know many, many more facts about elephants now than I did this morning.” Hux gestures at Kylo’s phone. “She’s also sent me a friend request on Facebook and as soon as I accepted she tagged me in an inspirational video about elephants.” 

Kylo laughs. “I’m glad you have a random international grandma too now - Yai Bua sent me a friend request too. I forgot to respond. Anyway, I wanted to ask you - is it okay if we come back here tomorrow?”

“Oh no,” Hux says. “I thought your retreat was done! Haven’t you had enough?”

“Yeah, the retreat’s over, but I really want to come back here to get a tattoo.” 

“A _tattoo_?”

“Yeah.” Kylo looks at Hux rather pleadingly. “I mean I guess you don’t have to come with me, but I wish you would - like, for moral support. I’ve never gotten a tattoo before and I don’t know how much it’s supposed to hurt.”

“Yes, all right, I suppose,” Hux says, “but what sort of monastery gives tattoos? Or is it just that the tattoo shop is near here?”

“They do it here - one of the monks does it in exchange for donations to the temple,” Kylo says. “It’s a religious thing, like, for protection - the tattoos have protective symbols and Buddhist prayers in them.”

“Really?” Hux says incredulously. “You want to be one of those ridiculous white people who has a tattoo in an Asian language that he can’t even read?” Kylo’s face falls. “What if it turns out to be a takeout menu? Or, you know, something that just says ‘stupid foreigner’?”

“I trust these monks,” Kylo says stubbornly. “They do it for each other too. I got the idea because they did a question-and-answer thing after the silent meditation ended, and a bunch of the monks had these really cool tattoos. So I asked them about it and they brought me to meet the tattoo-artist monk. He’s super awesome, really amazing guy. Really talented.” Kylo pauses. “Anyway, the tattoos are in Pali Sanskrit, not regular Thai, so even if it is a takeout menu the only people who could read it are Buddhist scholars. I think I’m probably pretty safe.”

“Speaking of safety,” Hux says doubtfully, “ _is_ it safe? I donated blood last spring and they won’t let you do it if you’ve gotten a tattoo in a foreign country. Because of hepatitis and AIDS and that sort of thing.”

“They also won’t let you donate blood if you suck dick but that’s not stopping me,” Kylo says, somewhat irritably. He lets go of Hux and sits up. “And yeah, I saw his set-up, it seemed clean to me. He said they used to use traditional bamboo needles but these days it’s all sterile steel tips, and they use new ones for each person.”

“Okay,” Hux says, still somewhat dubious. “What kind of tattoo are you getting?”

“In the one that I want, the lines of the prayer look like a hand, so it kind of looks like a _hamsa_ , like this protective-hand symbol that you see a lot in Israel,” Kylo says. “I mean I know I’m a bad Jew for getting a tattoo but I feel like this could be kind of a cool Jewish-Buddhist fusion thing, you know?”

“Where on your body are you going to put it?” Hux remembers the boys he used to peer at surreptitiously in the skate park near his school; quite a few of them were heavily tattooed. It occurs belatedly to Hux that that might be an excellent look on Kylo.

“On my back - like, for protection, like it’s watching my back,” Kylo says. “And I want it to be over my heart. To kind of remind me that I’m still here, you know?” He looks away from Hux. “I mean, because I almost wasn’t. My mom tried to call me, that night, and she got worried when I didn’t pick up - she insisted that they come home to check on me. My dad thought she was being paranoid. But if she hadn’t done that I probably wouldn’t’ve made it.”

Hux thinks suddenly of his own mother, of the way the light from the doorway used to shine through her fair hair as she sat by his bed every evening. As a child he had been afraid of the dark; his father wouldn’t allow him to have a nightlight, but his mother would keep the light on in the hallway for him. “Maybe I should get a tattoo, too,” he says. 

Kylo glances at him, looking startled. “Really?”

“Yes,” Hux says decisively. Suddenly he feels very certain. “I want to get one too.”

“But I thought you said it was ridiculous.”

“I’ve done lots of ridiculous things with you,” Hux says. “Why should this be any different?”

“Well - it’s permanent, for one thing.” Kylo shrugs. “But hey - cool! That would be really fun, actually, if we both do it. Do you want to go see that monk and look through the book of tattoo designs?”

“No. I was just thinking I’d get the same one as you.” Kylo’s eyes widen. “Unless you want it to be unique? I suppose you might want that, with a tattoo.”

“No - I mean, it’s a traditional design, it’s not going to be unique to me anyway.” Kylo blinks. His voice cracks slightly. “I just - really? You want us to get matching tattoos?”

“Well, of course I won’t if you don’t want me to.” Hux suddenly remembers that a donation to the temple is involved. “Or if it’s expensive, I didn’t mean to ask for more of your money.”

“No!” Kylo takes both of Hux’s hands and squeezes them. “I mean, I’d love that. I really would. I’m just surprised - are you sure?”

Hux shrugs. “I suppose it might always remind me that I used to be young and stupid. But there are worse things.”

“Definitely,” Kylo agrees. “I just really - I would love that.” He’s still holding both of Hux’s hands tightly in his own. He’s looking at Hux in that unnervingly intense way again; his eyes are enormous. He opens his mouth as if to say something, then seems to change his mind. He leans in to kiss Hux instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings:
> 
> Semi-Public Sex: they have sex in a bunk on a sleeper train. The privacy curtains are closed but Hux is afraid someone will hear them; it’s not clear if anyone does.
> 
> Cultural insensitivity: in this chapter they go to a retreat at a Buddhist monastery, and Kylo and Hux both make comments (to each other, not the monks) that I think Buddhists would probably find offensive. For example, Kylo jokes about monks having sex with each other, and Hux is generally kind of hostile and skeptical about the whole experience. I’m not endorsing their comments or the other inappropriate behavior they’ve engaged in this far in this fic, and I’m open to suggestions about how to tag/handle this subject matter better. I apologize if anyone finds these descriptions upsetting. 
> 
> Referenced Suicide Attempt: Kylo briefly references his suicide attempt again; no graphic details. 
> 
> Mental Health Issues/Brendol Hux’s A+ Parenting: Hux is upset about his father’s behavior and is struggling with anxiety. No graphic details of child abuse or anything like that. 
> 
> Bugs: there are a lot of beetles in the bathroom at the monastery. 
> 
> Thanks again for everyone’s kind comments on previous chapters! Love you guys!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See endnotes for detailed chapter warnings, although this chapter is fairly harmless, I think.

“Hux,” Kylo says, poking him, “look at that!”

“I’m trying not to,” Hux says, queasily. “If we go plunging off this cliff, it’s been nice knowing you.” 

“We’re not going to plunge off a cliff. And you’re missing the view!”

Their small, overloaded bus is presently negotiating a series of hairpin turns, making its way up into the mountains. When they boarded in Vientiane, several hours earlier, Hux had been rather amazed by the quantities of cargo - other passengers’ suitcases, cardboard boxes full of dried shrimp, a motorcycle - that the driver and his assistant had managed to lash to the roof of the vehicle. Now Hux imagines that he can feel all of it shifting to drag them over the edge of the sheer limestone cliff to his right. He finds himself clutching involuntarily at Kylo’s arm, as if holding onto Kylo would do him any good if the bus went careening off the mountain.

Kylo squeezes his thigh. “We have our protective tattoos, remember? We’ll be okay.”

“Yes, I couldn’t possibly forget, it itches horribly,” Hux says irritably, still holding Kylo’s arm tightly with both hands. “I really don’t know why I did that, I don’t believe in any of that sort of thing.”

“You said it would be like your mother’s hand on your back. And you wanted us to match.”

“Yes, I know, I was being very ridiculous. You must be rubbing off on me.”

“Whenever I get a chance,” Kylo says, grinning. Hux briefly lets of go of his bicep to swat at him. “Anyway, you know, you’re allowed to be comforted by something even if it isn’t totally logical. There’s no law against it.”

Eventually the road levels out and Hux breathes out shakily. “All this to just to see some jars,” he says crossly. 

“Not just any jars,” Kylo says. “Mystical ancient jars.” Hux rolls his eyes. “Some people think they were left there by aliens.”

“Oh no, don’t start with aliens now,” Hux groans. “Ghosts are bad enough; aliens are worse.”

Kylo laughs. “Why are aliens worse? I mean, they kind of seem more scientific than ghosts. I would’ve thought you’d like them better.”

“It depends on the type of aliens,” Hux says. “If you want to obsess about extraterrestrial microorganisms I suppose I have no objection to that. But I can’t stand the kind of aliens who come from another dimension and have mystical wisdom to impart. It’s just - it’s just a New Age version of angels for people who don’t like organized religion.”

Kylo laughs again, shaking his head. “Got it,” he says, “no aliens. Or at least no aliens that say inspirational things.”

“Exactly,” Hux says. “Martian bacteria are acceptable, but aliens who sound like yoga instructors are not.”

“What if I get abducted by the yoga-instructor kind of aliens, though? Can I tell you about their wisdom then?”

“You’ll have to guard against that,” Hux says firmly. “I have my limits.”

“Okay,” Kylo says, “although if they probe me or whatever, I’m definitely telling you all about that part at least. Anyway, if you’d rather have ghosts, they probably have lots of those on the Plain of Jars too.”

“Oh, because of the war?”

“No, because some people think that they’re actually ancient burial jars. What war?”

“Vietnam,” Hux says. “We bombed the shit out of the Plain of Jars during Vietnam. That’s the only reason I’ve ever heard of it, actually.” Kylo looks rather horrified. “You didn’t know about that?”

“No!” Kylo grimaces. “I found out about it from a Lonely Planet list of ‘Top Ten Most Mysterious Places in Southeast Asia.’ Why would we bomb an archaeological site in Laos because of the war in Vietnam? That makes no sense.”

An older woman across the aisle is eying the two of them warily. “Maybe we should talk about this later,” Hux says, uncomfortably.

“I guess that would explain where all the unexploded ordnance comes from,” Kylo says. 

“The what?”

“The unexploded bombs and stuff. The guidebook says we have to be really careful to stay on the path when we’re visiting the jars, because otherwise we could step on a land mine and die.”

Hux sighs. “Wonderful,” he says. “Maybe I should take over planning our itineraries. First monkeys, then beetles, and now we’re taking a potentially-deadly bus ride to a place full of land mines.”

“I like to keep things interesting,” Kylo says cheerfully. 

“That’s one way to put it,” Hux says darkly. Outside, the jungle-covered mountains have given way to a strange desolate landscape of rolling hills. The wind blowing through the bus’s windows is surprisingly cold. Hux shivers, nestling closer to Kylo.

***

“I guess you weren’t kidding about the unexploded ordnance,” Hux says, nudging Kylo, as they sit down to breakfast at their hotel the next morning. Their cozy breakfast nook is under a sunny skylight, decorated with potted plants. Among the plants is a sort of centerpiece that appears to be made of rusty mortar rounds. “Hopefully someone deactivated that thing before they brought it in here.”

“Yeah, hopefully,” Kylo says. “It’s pretty awesome-looking, honestly - I wonder if you can buy stuff like that around here?”

“No,” Hux says firmly. “Like I said, I have my limits. And one of those limits is that I’m not bumping over mountain roads in Laos next to someone who has a fifty-year-old mortar round in his backpack.” 

“It’s always just _no, no, no_ , with you,” Kylo says, laughing. “No pet pythons, no alien abductions, no monkey herpes. And now I’m not allowed to buy cool art just because it might explode and kill us?”

“Obviously _someone_ has to keep you in check,” Hux says sternly. “I don’t know how you managed before I came along.”

Kylo squeezes Hux’s knee under the table. 

***

As they step outside onto the street, Hux shivers in the wind. “I had no idea it was going to be so cold here. Why did we leave Vientiane? It was so nice there.”

“I thought you wanted to leave Vientiane and never come back,” Kylo says, elbowing him, “after your massage incident.”

“I thought we weren’t ever going to speak of that again,” Hux says grimly. 

“Maybe you aren’t,” Kylo says, laughing, “but I’m planning to speak of it as often as possible.”

Hux glares at him. In Vientiane, they had gone to get another couples’ massage at a pleasant teak-wood spa near the banks of the Mekong. At one point, Hux’s massage therapist, who didn’t speak English, had knelt next to him and gestured repeatedly towards her lap. Eventually Hux realized that she wanted him to put his head in her lap so that she could massage his scalp. Unfortunately, he had failed to come to this realization until _after_ he had alarmed her by making a confused attempt to sit in her lap.

“Anyway,” Kylo says, as Hux writhes internally at this memory, “aside from trying to sit on innocent massage therapists, there wasn’t really that much to do in Vientiane.” 

“But it was warm and they had good French food and it wasn’t full of land mines,” Hux says, rather mournfully. “I didn’t realize how good I had it.”

“Here, take my jacket,” Kylo says, shrugging off his leather jacket and wrapping it around Hux’s shoulders. It’s warm and smells of Kylo’s body; Hux hugs it around himself gratefully. “And look how cool this is - are those missiles in front of that bar?”

“Looks like it,” Hux says, peering curiously at the rusty shells as they walk by. Two tall ones flank the doorway, and another smaller one is being used as a planter in front of the window. “I think those big ones are the same kind of clamshell bomb casing we saw that farmer using to feed his cows yesterday.”

“This is some crazy shit,” Kylo says enthusiastically. “I want to decorate my house like this.”

“You can do whatever you like,” Hux says, “but I’m not living anywhere that’s full of possibly-disarmed bomb parts.” _Now I’m doing it too_ , he thinks, with a kind of falling sensation in his stomach. _Talking like we’re really going to live together after all this is over._

Kylo pouts, and reaches for Hux’s hand. “Oh fine,” he says, “I guess I’d rather have a hot boyfriend than a houseful of bombs.” He glances anxiously at Hux, as if he’s waiting to see if Hux will object to being referred to this way.

Hux squeezes Kylo’s hand, feeling rather overwhelmed. Then he notices a man nearby staring at them and pulls away. “Can we see if they have jackets over there?” he asks, gesturing down an alleyway, towards a row of small stands. 

“You don’t want to just wear mine?” Kylo asks, looking rather hurt. He reaches for Hux’s hand again, but Hux pulls away, walking towards the street vendors. “And now you won’t hold my hand either?”

Hux stops walking and lowers his voice. “That guy was staring at us.” 

“So? Maybe he thinks we’re hot.”

“I just don’t want to end up in a Lao jail.”

“You’re not going to go to jail,” Kylo says impatiently. “We looked this up already. It’s fine.”

“It said the police sometimes get mad if you’re not discreet.”

“Yeah, like, if you’re a business, if you put up rainbow flags or something, they might shut you down,” Kylo says. “But they don’t care what foreigners do. Don’t freak out.”

“That’s easy for you to say, your mom will probably bring the whole US government down on them if they bother you,” Hux says. “My dad would just laugh if anything happened to me.”

Kylo sighs and sticks his hands in his pockets, looking frustrated. “Nothing’s going to happen to you,” he says. “And even if it did my mom would want to help you, too. I mean, she does, already.”

“What do you mean?”

Kylo looks uncomfortable. “Like, I told her about you,” he says, “about all the bullshit with your dad and stuff.” He hesitates, as if he’s waiting to see if Hux will be angry about this. Hux isn’t quite sure how to feel. “She says you can stay with us when we get back, as long as you need to. You know, if that’s what you want.”

“Thank you,” Hux says, in a small voice. “I mean - really, thank you. I just hate to be a - a charity case.”

“You’re not.” Kylo sound exasperated. “I keep trying to tell you.” He cocks his head at Hux. “Are you acting weird now because I called you my boyfriend? Are you mad about that?”

“No,” Hux says, his stomach clenching anxiously. “I actually started calling you my boyfriend a while ago. When I was talking to Susan.”

“Susan?”

“Yeah, the Scottish lady from the monastery,” Hux says. “The elephant whisperer. She’s still sending me daily elephant facts on Facebook.”

Kylo laughs. “Can I hug you?” he asks, holding out his arms. “Like, I really don’t think you need to worry, everyone here seems super chill and nice.” 

“I guess,” Hux says, stepping forward uncertainly to let Kylo enfold him in his arms. “I just - I felt sort of comfortable in Vientiane, but this is such a small town. In the middle of nowhere. And it’s full of bombs.”

Kylo rubs Hux’s back. “Just relax,” he says. “Tell me an elephant fact. Do they have a lot of elephants in Laos?”

“If they don’t, they should,” Hux says into Kylo’s shoulder. “Susan was really excited to hear that we were coming here. She says the traditional name for Laos means ‘The Land of a Million Elephants.’”

Kylo laughs again. “That’s a good elephant fact,” he says soothingly, still stroking Hux’s back. “Just don’t tell her we haven’t seen a single one yet. Let her down easy.”

***

“I still can’t believe you talked me into buying this jacket,” Hux says, as they climb out of their taxi in front of the visitor center at the Plain of Jars. “I think this was a conspiracy between you and that girl at the clothing stall.”

“We just both thought you looked cute,” Kylo says cheerfully. “Plus now you won’t be cold. And if we get lost out here, we can probably use your jacket to signal to passing planes.”

“It’s certainly bright enough,” Hux agrees, gloomily. The only available jacket that had been large enough to fit him is a hot-pink windbreaker with yellow polka-dot trim. Across the back, in looping cursive, it declares that Hux is “Creative. Traditional. In-Now.”

“I’m just messing with you,” Kylo says. “Honestly, it’s a great color on you. Better than my black clothes. You just need a pair of matching yoga pants and it’ll be a whole look.”

“At least that’ll make it easy to find all the scattered bits of me when I step on a land mine out here,” Hux says crossly. “Is that a bomb crater next to the path there?” 

“I mean, you’d probably know better than me,” Kylo says, looking uneasily at the unnaturally round depression in the dry earth just a few feet from the entrance to the park. “Looks like it, I guess. But if there’s a crater, that means it exploded already - so it’s safe now, right?”

“I would assume so,” Hux says, squinting at it. “Some of the bombs we dropped during the war were full of anti-personnel mines - so they scattered hundreds of little bomblets that could still go off. But I don’t think that kind of bomb would’ve made a crater like that.” He pauses. “Honestly, though, I don’t really know.”

“Ugh,” Kylo says. “I’m sure it’s safe on the path, but maybe I should go see if the visitor center has a map. Like, just to make sure we’re in the area that’s been cleared.”

“Sometimes you can be surprisingly sensible,” Hux says. 

When Kylo comes back with the map, they make their way up the path towards the crest of the hill. Hux looks around curiously. The straw-colored hills stretch into the distance, covered with short grass, as neatly-manicured as a golf course. Here and there, the round shapes of the stone jars nestle into the earth, like enormous seashells on a waterless beach. And everywhere, the landscape is pocked with bomb craters. Some are filled with water, like perfectly round decorative ponds; others are dry and brown, beginning to fade into the grass. One shell hole is so close to a trio of jars that the jars appear about to tip into it at any moment. The sky overhead is very blue.

Almost immediately Kylo steps off the path - Hux winces and reaches for him - to touch the nearest jar. “This is so cool,” he says rapturously, flattening both of his palms against its sides. “There’s, like, an energy here, you know? Come feel it.”

“No thank you,” Hux says. “I’m perfectly happy here on the path.”

“It’s like one foot off,” Kylo says. “It’s okay.” He stomps his feet to demonstrate. “See?”

“I guess,” Hux says, reluctantly moving closer. Kylo takes his hand and places it on the side of the jar. The stone is warm from the sun and pitted with age. Dark patches of lichen stipple the surface, making a pattern like the skin of a snake. It does feel curiously alive under his hand. He pulls away hastily. 

“See?” Kylo says. “You feel it too, right? Maybe these _were_ left here by aliens.” Hux snorts derisively. “Or maybe it’s just that so much history happened here. You can feel, like, that connection to everyone who’s been here, you know?” 

“But why would that be more true here than anywhere else?” Hux says, mostly to annoy Kylo. “You could say that about literally any place that’s been inhabited by humans. You could go to, I don’t know, the Mall of America or someplace and put your hand on a table in the food court and feel connected to all the people who’ve been there. You don’t have to go to Laos for that.”

Kylo laughs. “Well, maybe the tables in the Mall of America food court were left there by aliens too, who knows? I’d believe it.” 

Not far away, a white bird is perched on the edge of a water-filled shell hole; it darts forward and comes away with a tiny shimmering fish in its black beak. 

On the other side of the hill, a small path branches away from the main trail, leading towards the irregular black mouth of a cave. People seem to have left offerings outside it - little praying figurines in golden clothes; tiny ceramic zebras; open bottles of red Fanta. A rock near the entrance is wrapped in a rainbow of multi-colored silk scarves.

“I definitely want to see that, it’s supposed to be haunted,” Kylo says enthusiastically. He waves the pamphlet from the visitors’ center at Hux. “This says people always believed that spirits lived there.” He looks at the pamphlet again. “And during the war it says that people hid there from the bombs. They had an anti-aircraft gun in there that they fired through a crack in the rock.”

“Well there you go,” Hux says. “I suppose that would make it extra-haunted, wouldn’t it?”

“I guess,” Kylo says. “Not really in a fun way, though. That reminds me - I don’t think you ever explained why we bombed this place. What the fuck were we thinking? I mean, it’s a fucking World Heritage Site now.”

“There was a lot of Communist activity in the area, I think,” Hux says. “I suppose that’s where they got the anti-aircraft gun.”

“But what were they bombing?” Kylo demands. “The fucking jars? There’s nothing out here.”

“It was a smuggling route for the Communists,” Hux says. “And also I think it was just convenient - I remember reading that they used to drop unused bombs here because it wasn’t safe to land the planes with them attached.”

“It was _convenient_? Like - what, they just had some extra bombs they needed to get rid of, so they figured they’d drop them on a major world heritage site?”

Hux waves a hand vaguely towards the horizon. “I think the reason was that this area is on the flight path between North Vietnam and the airbases we used to have in northern Thailand. So if the bombers didn’t hit their targets in Vietnam, they’d drop the bombs here on their way home.”

“That’s so insane,” Kylo says, staring at Hux. “Is this stuff your dad told you? Was he in the war here?”

“No, he’s too young, he started basic training at West Point just after the fall of Saigon,” Hux says. “He was class of 1979 - the last class with no women in it. He and his classmates call themselves ‘the last class with balls.’”

Kylo rolls his eyes. “It’s honestly amazing how your dad has found so many different ways to be a massive douchebag.”

“Yes, he’s talented that way,” Hux agrees. “Anyway, I suppose that must have been a strange time to join the Army - he never went near Vietnam, but he’s still spent my whole life ranting about how we would’ve won in Vietnam if we hadn’t been stabbed in the back by the media and the protestors. That sort of thing.”

“So that’s why you know about this?” Kylo asks. “Because your dad thinks we should’ve dropped _more_ anti-personnel mines on Laos?”

“Not exactly,” Hux says. “My father always pestered me to learn military history, and that’s how I discovered that practically every respected historian thinks he was wrong about Vietnam. It’s actually quite enjoyable to read a detailed academic study of all the ways in which my father is an idiot.”

Kylo laughs. “I wish somebody would write something like that about my dad’s dumb ideas,” he says. “But I don’t think respected historians usually write books about why you shouldn’t spend my mom’s money on truckfulls of sketchy ‘health supplements’ that you’re sure are going to be the next big thing.”

“How’d that work out for him?”

“Not well,” Kylo says. “Some of it got confiscated by the cops - it was really embarrassing for my mom. I think the rest of it’s still sitting in some warehouse in upstate New York.” Hux remembers the photographs he had seen of Kylo’s father - his handsome face and his ironic little smirk - and thinks rather ruefully that he entirely understands why Kylo’s mother would put up with his antics. But he knows better than to say so to Kylo. Kylo tugs at his hand. “Anyway - let’s go check out this haunted cave.”

Hux sighs. “If we must.”

“Oh come on, how many haunted caves are you likely to see in your life?”

“As long as I’m with you I feel like it might be a surprisingly high number,” Hux says grimly, but he follows Kylo into the cave. The ceiling is low - both of them have to stoop to avoid hitting their heads on the rock - and there’s a musty, unpleasant smell to the air. Hux begins to feel claustrophobic immediately. Once his eyes adjust he notices that people have placed dozens of tiny Buddha statues in the cracks of the limestone walls. “Just so you know,” he says to Kylo, “I’m _not_ having sex with you in this creepy hole in the ground.”

“I wasn’t going to try to get you to have sex in here!” Kylo protests, in injured tones. “That would be disrespectful.”

“Don’t sound so shocked,” Hux says, rolling his eyes. “You’re the one who wanted me to step on your dick in that burned-down haunted house.”

“That was different,” Kylo says. “Those ghosts were teenage girls who died while they were goofing around - they were friendly ghosts. But I don’t want to have sex in front of angry Lao Communist ghosts. Especially if they were killed by American bombs - that definitely seems like a good way to get a curse put on you.”

“Fine then,” Hux says, somewhat irritably. “You don’t want to have sex in front of Communist ghosts, I don’t want to have sex in a weird-smelling damp cave - win-win for everyone.”

Kylo is looking around, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Imagine being crowded in here with a zillion people with bombs dropping on you,” he says. 

“I’m trying not to,” Hux says, making a face. “By the way, how much more of this is there? You’ve bonded with an ancient jar and visited a cave that may or may not be haunted by Communists, so can we go back to Vientiane now?”

“I figured we’d catch the bus to Luang Prabang tomorrow, if that’s okay with you,” Kylo says. “I think you’ll like it - it’s got French food and spas and things, so you can chill out and recover from your haunted-cave experience. But there’s two more fields full of jars that I want to see first.”

Hux sighs.

***

“My feet are so tired,” Hux complains as he steps out of the shower that evening. “But I suppose I should just be grateful they’re still attached to the rest of me, considering your penchant for wandering off the path to feel the energy of the jars.”

“We weren’t _that_ far off the path,” Kylo protests. “And it was so beautiful out there. I’m glad we got to see it.”

“We barely found our way back! I don’t even think that trail was part of the park. You’d probably be halfway to Vietnam - or blown up - if I hadn’t made you turn around.”

“But at least we had our combat boots on,” Kylo points out. “Aren’t those supposed to protect you if you step on a mine?”

Hux snorts. “No, not at all. Soldiers in Vietnam sometimes used to wear grass sandals instead of boots because at least that way you wouldn’t end up with bits of the boot’s steel shank stuck into you.”

“You’re such a fountain of cheerful facts today,” Kylo says. “Anyway, since you still have feet, want me to rub them for you?”

“Yes, do,” Hux says, pleased, sitting down in the armchair next to the bed and sticking his feet out in Kylo’s direction. “Make yourself useful.”

“So that’s all I’m good for, huh?” Kylo asks, kneeling in front of Hux and taking Hux’s right foot in both of his hands. “Rubbing your feet and sucking your cock?”

“Mmm, yes, exactly,” Hux says, sighing happily as Kylo presses his thumbs into the sore arch of Hux’s foot. He lifts his other foot and puts it in Kylo’s lap, nudging at his cock through his boxer shorts. Kylo lets out a little stuttering gasp. “You haven’t spent nearly enough time on your knees in front of me lately.”

“I’ll do better, I promise,” Kylo says, rubbing his thumbs up and down the sole of Hux’s foot, massaging the tender spot under the ball of the foot. He’s getting hard, his hips twitching, as if he wants to grind up against Hux’s other foot but isn’t sure if he’s allowed. “Your feet are so pretty. I need to take better care of them.”

“I really want to get another pedicure soon,” Hux says. “Do they have pedicures in Luang Prabang?”

“I’m sure they do,” Kylo says, a bit raggedly. Hux is rubbing his foot slowly over the shaft of Kylo’s cock. “I - I’ll take you somewhere where you can be all pampered and happy.” 

“What you’re doing now is a good start,” Hux says, leaning back in the armchair and closing his eyes. “Maybe if you keep it up I’ll even let you suck me off afterwards.”

“What if I do this?” Kylo asks, lifting Hux’s foot to his mouth and sucking two of his toes into his mouth. Hux lets out a hiss. “You like that?”

“Yes,” Hux admits, squirming, heat flaring sharply between his legs. Kylo licks at the sensitive skin between his toes, and Hux squeaks. “It’s weird - but it feels really good - I don’t know why - “

“Just go with it,” Kylo suggests, running his hot tongue over the pad of Hux’s big toe. He’s grinding up against Hux’s other foot, breathing hard on Hux’s wet skin. “Don’t overthink it.”

“Do the other foot,” Hux demands, and Kylo obeys, picking up Hux’s other foot, massaging it with his strong fingers while he licks and sucks at the toes. Hux squeezes his eyes shut, panting. He feels as if he’s melting into the chair. 

Kylo kisses the inside of Hux’s ankle; the slight stubble around his lips prickles against the thin skin. He moves his mouth slowly up Hux’s calf, pausing at his knee. Hux opens his eyes to see Kylo looking up at him questioningly. His face is flushed and his dark eyes are very bright.

“Yes, keep going,” Hux says impatiently. His cock throbs, still trapped under his towel. “Why’d you stop?”

“I was just thinking,” Kylo says. “You know, we never used those condoms and lube we bought in Bangkok. We could try those out.”

“I guess,” Hux says, somewhat reluctantly. Buying them had been another mortifying ordeal, at least for Hux. “We probably don’t need these,” Kylo had said, in a Bangkok drugstore where everything, confusingly, seemed to be marked with British names, “but, like, if it makes you more comfortable, it’s fine. What size do you think you are?”

“I have no idea,” Hux said. Kylo had already picked up a box of Durex XXLs, presumably for himself. _Whatever “small” or “average” is in condoms_ , Hux thought, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. 

An elderly woman shuffled slowly past them, pushing a walker, and Hux tried to look as if he were shopping for almost anything else. The rack of tampons next to the condoms was equally embarrassing, so he turned around to stare hard at a shelf full of something labeled “gripe water.” 

Kylo tugged at his shoulder. “Let’s just get a bunch of different sizes and styles,” he suggested, holding up several different colorful boxes. “We can fool around and have fun with it, see what works.”

“Shhhh,” Hux responded, gesturing to the old lady’s gradually-retreating back. Kylo rolled his eyes.

“What, you think she didn’t get up to some wild shit back in the day?” Kylo demanded. Hux waved a hand frantically to shush him, and he lowered his voice slightly. “Or now, actually. I mean, it’s kind of crappy to assume old people don’t fuck.”

“Fine, I apologize for my ageist assumptions,” Hux whispered irritably. “Can we just grab some and get out of here?”

“Okay, okay,” Kylo said, holding up his hands. “You okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s fine. Let’s just go.”

Kylo frowned, but didn’t argue. At the register, the cashier - a slender, pretty young man with a crisp undercut - looked at Kylo’s haul of condoms and lube and laughed. “Wow, so many!” he said.

“Hey, man, you never know,” Kylo said, grinning. 

The cashier looked Kylo up and down. “You have some _big_ plans?” he asked suggestively, running his finger over the box of XXLs. Hux, who had been hanging back, trying to make himself invisible behind an advertisement for skin cream, moved closer, annoyed. He wrapped his arms around Kylo’s waist and dug his sharp chin into Kylo’s shoulder, glaring at the cashier. 

The cashier laughed again. “Have fun!” he said brightly, putting their purchases into a blue-and-gilt gift bag and tying it shut with a festive gold ribbon. 

Now, Kylo is peering thoughtfully up at Hux, still on his knees. “You know, you don’t have to let me fuck you,” he says. “You could fuck me if you want.”

“You want that?” Hux asks, somewhat surprised. “You keep talking about wanting to fuck me. I didn’t think you’d be into doing this the other way around.”

“I mean, I’m not going to lie, your ass turns me on like crazy,” Kylo says, “but I’m pretty much down for whatever. I just really like watching you totally lose it.”

“And I suppose - logistically - it might be easier this way,” Hux says.

Kylo laughs. “Only you would put it like that,” he says. “You mean because my dick is so big?” 

Hux rolls his eyes. “Yes, Kylo, because your dick is so big.” He rubs his foot against it for emphasis, and Kylo groans. “Happy now?”

“Yeah,” Kylo pants. “Plus I’m pretty sure I’ll like getting fucked for real, I used to do it to myself with a hairbrush sometimes.”

Hux raises his eyebrows. “Really? A hairbrush?”

“Well, the handle, not the bristly part,” Kylo clarifies, not at all abashed. “Don’t look at me like that - sex shops will chase you out if you’re underage. And, like, I’m sure my parents wouldn’t really have a problem with it, but there’s a limit to what I’m willing to ask my mom to order from Amazon for me.”

Hux shakes his head. “Every day I learn something new and disturbing about you,” he says. “Anyway - how do you want to do this? Like - “

Kylo digs into his bag and pulls out two of the boxes of condoms - not the XXLs, Hux notes, slightly chagrined - and a pump bottle of lube. _Liquid Silk_ , the label reads. He tosses them to Hux and kicks off his boxers, lying down on the bed. He folds his arms behind his head and spreads his legs helpfully at Hux. He’s still half-hard, his cock lolling thick and red against his stomach. “Like this, I think?” he says. “I want to be able to see your face.”

Hux picks at the plastic seal on the lube, feeling rather more anxious than excited. He’s seen people do this in porn movies plenty of times, but he suspects strongly that real life might be different. Also, admittedly, he’s always fantasized more about getting fucked than vice versa - but in his fantasies it had always happened against his will, under circumstances that left him no choice but to submit. He remembers meeting Kylo at the airport and wondering what Kylo might want in exchange for his help. _If I_ have to do it... The idea of Kylo holding him down, forcing him - whispering _spread your legs or you’ll be out on the street_ , maybe - still sends a hot shiver through him. But the idea of just telling Kylo _I want you to fuck me_ makes his throat close up with anxiety. Besides, he thinks, looking at Kylo’s cock again, the logistical difficulties are real. 

Kylo is watching him. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to,” Hux says. “I just - I hate feeling like I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Don’t stress about it,” Kylo says, shrugging. “My only basis for comparison is a hairbrush, remember? You’re definitely way better than a hairbrush.”

Hux laughs. “Thanks, I guess.”

Kylo strokes his bare thigh with a toe. “I mean, neither of us knows what we’re doing, it’s not going to be perfect. But that’s okay! You don’t have to be, like, the valedictorian of anal, you know?”

“Okay, okay,” Hux says. Kylo’s attempts to reassure him are only making him feel more incompetent. He picks up the lube again. “Let’s just do this.”

“Why don’t you come up here and make out with me a little first?” Kylo suggests, holding out his arms. He’s not hard anymore. “This is starting to feel like a medical exam or something.”

“I’m surprised you’re not into that.”

“Actually, yeah,” Kylo says brightly, “that could be really hot, for sure. Go with that.” He spreads his legs wider and grins at Hux. “Please, Doctor, I need your help. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

Hux laughs. “Why, what’s wrong?” he asks, sitting up straighter. Somehow the idea of pretending to be a doctor is making him feel more confident. “Tell me about your symptoms.”

“Uh,” Kylo says, “it’s just - I keep wanting to stick things up my ass. I can’t help it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He jerks his hips impatiently. “Please, can’t you help me?”

“Certainly I can,” Hux says, pumping some lube onto his fingers and wishing that he had a latex glove to put on. _That would make this feel so much more realistic._ “I’d better do an internal exam, to see what’s going on.” 

“Yeah, do that,” Kylo says enthusiastically. His cock twitches in an interested way. “You should probably be really thorough. Really check out what’s going on up there.”

“Of course,” Hux says sternly, furrowing his eyebrows at Kylo. He reaches between Kylo’s legs and begins exploring, stroking his hole with the tip of his index finger. “I never do anything halfway.”

“Absolutely, Doctor,” Kylo pants, squirming against Hux’s finger. His cheeks are flushed. “Sorry - I - I didn’t mean to question you.”

“See that you don’t,” Hux says, pressing deeper into Kylo. Kylo’s body is tight and silky around his finger, blood-hot; the idea of fucking him, pushing his cock into that slick heat, is overwhelming. “I - ah, I think I’m beginning to understand the problem.”

“Ah!” Kylo writhes on the bed as Hux begins moving his finger in and out, feeling his way. “Ah - _fuck_ \- yeah, that’s it, right there.”

“So that’s it, then?” Hux asks, rather breathlessly, rubbing that spot more firmly now. Kylo is fully hard again; his cock jerks with every motion of Hux’s finger. “That’s the problem?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Kylo whimpers, throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. “Oh my god, that feels - fucking incredible - “

“Well,” Hux says, pleased, “I think we’ve found the source of your compulsions. Excellent.”

“Oh, yeah, right.” Hux watches as a bead of clear fluid coalesces on the tip of Kylo’s cock and drips down the shaft. “Hux - please - please touch my cock?”

“I’m not Hux, I’m your doctor,” Hux says serenely. “And that wouldn’t be very professional.”

Kylo groans. “You’re already naked and fingering me and _now_ you’re worried about being unprofessional? What kind of doctor are you, anyway?”

“A very dedicated one,” Hux says, trying not to laugh. Kylo is writhing on his finger now, his face contorted, his cock leaking freely. “But you’re right, perhaps I should conduct a more thorough physical examination.” He leans down to mouth gently at Kylo’s balls, and Kylo lets out a small shriek. It’s cool in the room but Kylo’s skin tastes of sweat and salt.

“You’re fucking killing me.”

“I’m not, I’m healing you,” Hux says, breathing deliberately on Kylo’s balls, still fucking him with his finger. Kylo reaches down to stroke himself, and Hux bats his hand away. “If you want to be cured then you can’t just touch yourself whenever you like. You have to wait for me to give you permission.” He licks delicately at Kylo’s balls, and Kylo whimpers. Hux’s own cock throbs between his legs. “But maybe it’s time for more drastic measures.”

“I’m about to do something fucking drastic - _please_ \- “

“Oh all right,” Hux says, “even though you’re not a very cooperative patient.” He withdraws his finger and reaching for the condoms. His hands are slippery with lube, and it’s difficult to get the packaging open; Kylo watches him, still breathing hard, biting into his lower lip. The first condom tears as he tries to rip it open with his teeth, and he tosses it away, feeling annoyed at himself.

“Let me help?” Kylo says, starting to sit up.

“I can do it,” Hux snaps. “Stay right there.” Eventually he manages to extract a condom and get it rolled on. Kylo pulls his knees up towards his chest and watches, open-mouthed, as Hux grips his cock and presses the blunt head against Kylo’s hole. Hux lets out an embarrassing little squeak as the tip of his cock slides slowly into Kylo. Even through the condom, it’s almost too much. Kylo clenches down around him as he pushes in deeper, and Hux stares desperately up at the ceiling, willing himself not to come immediately. 

“More,” Kylo says, rocking his hips, making Hux gasp. “Please - “ He reaches up to pinch at Hux’s nipples, maybe to spur him on, and Hux moans helplessly. He thrusts into Kylo hard. “Yeah! Fuck - that’s good - “ 

Between Kylo’s calloused fingers on his nipples, the tight heat of Kylo’s body, and the sight of his pink, ecstatic face, Hux only manages a few more thrusts. “Oh - _fuck_ \- “ he gasps, clutching at Kylo’s hips, as his back arches and his body goes rigid with pleasure. He collapses on Kylo’s chest, feeling mortified. “Sorry,” he mutters.

Kylo laughs, and Hux wants to die. “Wait, already? Even with the condom on?”

Hux tries to squirm away from Kylo. “I said I was sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, I’m just teasing you,” Kylo says, wrapping his legs around Hux’s waist so that he can’t get away. “I told you, I love watching you totally lose it.”

“Well, in that case, I imagine that must have been wonderful for you,” Hux says tightly. 

“It was! Honestly.” Kylo rubs Hux’s back soothingly. “Anyway, you’re my boyfriend now, right? We agreed to that?”

“Yes - why, have you changed your mind already?”

“No! I’m just making sure. I never really know what’s going on with you.” He kisses the top of Hux’s head. “My point is, we’re together, it’s all good, we can keep practicing. Right?”

“Right,” Hux says, rather miserably, thinking, _Of course if it had actually been any good he wouldn’t be telling me to keep practicing._ His softening cock is beginning to slip out of Kylo. He reaches down awkwardly to grip the base of the condom. “I, uh, I need to get rid of this thing.”

“Oh yeah, sorry,” Kylo says, letting go of Hux. Hux escapes to the bathroom, where it takes him a moment to figure out how to tie off the slippery condom and throw it away, wrinkling his nose at the smell of it. He washes his hands meticulously. Then he leans against the sink, trying to breathe. _Everything is actually fine_ , he tries to tell himself, but he can’t quite push past the prickling feeling of having failed - again. He glares at his reflection. 

Eventually Kylo knocks on the door. “Babe? You okay in there?”

“Yes, be out in a minute,” Hux says, feeling ridiculous. _Why am I hiding in here?_ He forces himself to open the door and nearly trips over Kylo, who is doing push-ups on the floor. He laughs. “What on earth?”

“I had some extra energy to burn off,” Kylo says, twisting his head to grin at Hux, “so I figured I could get in a few reps.”

“Oh yeah,” Hux says, slightly embarrassed. He sits down on the bed to watch the long lines of Kylo’s naked body as he continues doing push-ups. The muscles in his arms bulge with every movement. “You didn’t get to come - do you still want to? 

“Yeah, sure, if you’re up for it,” Kylo says, hopping up immediately.

“Well, don’t let me interrupt your workout,” Hux says, laughing. “I was enjoying the view.”

“Yeah?” Kylo says, flexing his muscles and turning around in a slow circle. “You like that?”

“Not bad,” Hux says, leaning back on his elbows. “Want me to suck you off?”

“Always,” Kylo says, launching himself towards the bed, tackling Hux. His cock digs into Hux’s stomach. “Actually - could you go back to doing that thing you were doing before, when you were fingering me and pretending to be a doctor? That was hot as shit.”

“Sure,” Hux says, beginning to feel better. “Or we could pretend that I’m a scientist, and I have to see how you respond to different stimuli.”

“Definitely,” Kylo says, rolling over onto his back and spreading his legs. “Let’s do it. For science.”

“For science,” Hux agrees.

***

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Hux announces as they board the bus to Luang Prabang the next morning. “I’m fairly certain that the only thing worse than going up those mountain roads by bus is going to be going back down.”

“It’ll be okay,” Kylo says, patting his back. “Down is faster. It’s only like six hours to Luang Prabang.”

“Faster is exactly what I’m worried about,” Hux grumbles.

Just outside the town, the bus stops by a small farmhouse, and a woman comes out with a cart full of food for the passengers. Kylo leans precariously out the window to buy two tins of rice and pork _larb._ “Hey!” he says excitedly, as he hands her the money. “New York! I’m from New York!”

The woman, who is wearing an “I ❤️ NY” t-shirt and a pink fleece jacket over an ornate sarong, smiles politely at him as she counts out his change. “New York!” Kylo says again, pointing at himself and then at her shirt. “Me!” A little boy pokes his head out from behind her and giggles at Kylo. “Hey, little guy!”

The little boy waves and smiles excitedly at them as the bus pulls away. Kylo waves back at them until they disappear behind a bend in the road. “I guess those are the kind of people who had to hide in caves while we bombed the shit out of this place,” he remarks to Hux. “That’s still so insane to me.”

“I suppose,” Hux says, uncomfortably, glancing around. No one seems to be paying any attention to them. 

“See, aren’t you glad you aren’t going to West Point? Now you won’t have to do that kind of bullshit.”

“I was never going to have to do that sort of thing anyway,” Hux says. “I was going to be an Army officer. It was mostly the Air Force that bombed Laos.”

Kylo shrugs impatiently. “Army, Air Force, same difference.”

“It is different,” Hux insists. “In the Army you can generally see who you’re shooting at.” 

“Oh yeah,” Kylo says sarcastically, “I’m sure that’s really comforting to them.”

Hux rolls his eyes. “Well, it should be, because obviously if I saw that woman and her little boy on a battlefield I wouldn’t shoot at them.”

“I mean, I believe you,” Kylo says, “but from what I’ve heard about Vietnam I’m pretty sure the Army did plenty of shooting at women and children too.”

“Well, yes,” Hux admits reluctantly. “But it’s not like that anymore. Nowadays at West Point they study episodes like the My Lai massacre as an example of what not to do.”

Kylo snorts. “Sure, okay.”

“What do you know about it?” Hux demands, exasperated. “It’s true. My father used to teach in the military-science department at West Point. He complains all the time about how the history and social-science departments there have been taken over by hippies.”

Kylo laughs. “I guess you know you’re pretty far out there when even West Point is too full of hippies for you.”

“Anyway,” Hux continues, “the fact that I’ve lost my opportunity to go to West Point won’t do anything to fix the sort of problems you’re referencing. If disciplined, ethical people don’t join the military that will just make everything worse.”

“If no one joins the military that’ll fix all the problems pretty quickly,” Kylo says, grinning at Hux, as if he knows that this point of view will be certain to irritate him.

“If no one joins the military they’ll just bring back the draft,” Hux says, determined not to be baited. “Because if they don’t we’ll end up like Kiev in the thirteenth century.”

“Okay fine, I’ll bite,” Kylo says, “I know I’m going to regret asking this, but what happened in Kiev in the thirteenth century?”

“It was destroyed by Mongols.” Kylo laughs. “Practically everyone in the city was massacred. Somebody described the aftermath as ‘not an eye left open to cry.’”

“I mean, I’m not an expert on military stuff,” Kylo says, “but I think we’re pretty safe from Mongols these days. They seem to have chilled out a lot since the thirteenth century, I don’t think they’re going to be invading Manhattan anytime soon.”

Hux frowns. “Yes, well, today’s equivalents of Genghis Khan have ICBMs, so if anything we need a strong national defense even more now than people did back then.” The bus lurches around a sharp turn, gaining speed as it rockets downhill, and Hux clutches at Kylo’s arm. “Oh my god, going downhill is even worse than going up, I knew it was going to be like this.”

Kylo hugs him tightly. “You were doing so well a minute ago when you were lecturing me about the Army - you didn’t even notice when we first started going down the mountain.” Hux gulps for air, trying not to panic. “Why don’t you tell me more about how we’re all going to be killed by Mongols with space rockets? That seemed to be calming you down.”

***

“ _Baw di_!” the master weaver - an elderly woman - says fiercely, peering over Kylo’s shoulder. “ _Baw di_!”

“She says that your cloth is very beautiful,” the master weaver’s assistant says, “but - “

Kylo, who had been rather despondently poking at his loom, suddenly sits up, looking excited. “No, she didn’t!” He looks at Hux. “I saw that in my phrasebook. _Baw di_! It means ‘no good.’”

Hux laughs. The assistant - a slight young woman with an anxious face - looks mortified. She says something in an undertone to the master weaver, who shrugs impatiently. 

“I sort of figured that from context,” Hux says. “Your problem is that you’re not consistently pulling the weft tight and locking it in place every time you go back and forth - that’s why you’ve got those uneven edges.”

Kylo raises his eyebrows. “Look who’s an expert on Lao weaving all of a sudden.”

“You don’t have to be an expert,” Hux says, rolling his eyes. “All you had to do was pay attention to the demonstration. And it requires some discipline and patience - that’s probably why you’re having so many difficulties.”

They’re sitting in a large, airy wooden house, looking out over the mountains around Luang Prabang. Going to a Lao weaving class had been Kylo’s idea - Hux had thought it sounded particularly pointless - but as it turned out Hux had taken to it much more naturally than Kylo. 

“Discipline, huh?” Kylo asks, winking at Hux. “Maybe you should teach me more about that later.”

“ _Kylo_.” 

“I know, I know,” Kylo sighs. “Not in front of the magical nagas.” Kylo had chosen to weave a dramatic pattern of golden snake-dragons on a rich purple background; Hux had opted for an abstract black-and-red geometric design. 

“Exactly,” Hux says sternly. “Right now I need to focus on my weaving.”

“I think my problem is that this doesn’t feel creative to me,” Kylo says. “It’s just one thread after another, over and over, and you have to follow the pattern they set up.”

“The pattern is one of the most interesting aspects of this, to me,” Hux says, peering at the pattern board. “It’s like a computer program - it’s very clever. All the weaver really does is execute the code.”

“Exactly,” Kylo says morosely. “But I’m glad one of us is enjoying this, at least.” He laughs suddenly. “When I found you at the airport in Korea, I definitely wouldn’t have guessed that less than a month later you’d be in Laos, wearing a sarong and lecturing me about how to correctly weave protective silk nagas.”

“I blame you entirely,” Hux says, frowning at his loom. “You’re a terrible influence.”

“You seem a lot happier, though.”

“I suppose I can’t complain,” Hux admits. “I do like it here.” 

“Yeah, it’s gorgeous,” Kylo says. Luang Prabang’s historic downtown, with its mixture of French colonial buildings and gilded Lao temples, was so beautiful that when they first arrived Kylo had fallen off a curb and scraped his knee because he was so busy looking around and exclaiming happily about the architecture. 

The only real problem was that apparently hordes of other tourists had also noticed how charming it was: Kylo and Hux had been driven out of a popular sunset-viewing spot the day before after several futile minutes of fighting through a sharp-elbowed crowd that had gotten there first. Hux didn’t mind, particularly; he wasn’t much given to viewing sunsets. Also, wandering away from the crowds meant that they had stumbled across a group of local children playing on what seemed to be the mount of an old anti-aircraft gun - swinging in circles and shrieking - which he found more interesting than the sunset. 

“Anyway, this weaving feels - well, meditative, I suppose,” Hux continues. “But it’s better than regular meditation because I’m actually _doing_ something.” He returns the shuttle rapidly to the left side of the loom and gestures proudly at the inches of silk he’s already woven. 

“You’re very cute,” Kylo says. “I don’t know about taking home one of these giant floor looms, but maybe we could get you one of those portable foot looms that we saw.”

“I’d like that,” Hux says. He thinks briefly about how thoroughly disgusted his father would be if he could see Hux now; the thought is rather satisfying. “Or maybe I’ll try to learn to knit or crochet. That seems more portable.”

“You are seriously the most adorable,” Kylo says, looking at him in that melting way that always makes Hux uncomfortable. “You’re so adorable that I’ll even let you drag me to that Hmong embroidery class they were talking about. If you want.”

“Really?” Hux asks, pleased. “Yes, let’s, I’d like that.”

“And then when we go home we can get a cat and you can embroider little jackets for it,” Kylo says. “Or whatever. It’ll be so good.”

Hux makes a slight face. “I suppose I’m turning into a terrible cliche.” 

“What cliche?” Kylo demands. “How many people do you know who do Hmong embroidery for cats?”

“I guess I’ll be the first.”

“That’s the spirit,” Kylo says, patting Hux’s leg. “Just go with it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Homophobia: Hux briefly expresses anxiety about being jailed or harassed for being gay in Laos (for the record, my understanding is that Laos is relatively accepting of LGBT people, although they don’t have any legal protections), but nothing bad actually happens. He’s also still struggling somewhat with internalized homophobia.
> 
> Vietnam War references: they visit the Plain of Jars, which was heavily bombed during the Vietnam War, and talk about the history, the ongoing issues with unexploded ordnance, etc. Not graphic. 
> 
> Sex: there’s a brief (a couple of sentences) description of a non-con fantasy of Hux’s that isn’t acted out. Also, Kylo sucks Hux’s toes, and they engage in a little bit of very mild medical role play. Additionally, they have anal sex for the first time (Hux tops), and it’s awkward; Hux feels embarrassed and insecure about his performance. 
> 
> Also, I feel like Hux’s comment about aliens and organized religion might be a paraphrase of something I read once? If you know where it’s from let me know and I’ll credit the author.
> 
> As usual, apologies to anyone who came for the BenArmie porn and got BenArmie bickering and unexploded ordnance instead.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For clarity, this story is set in the fall of 2015. See chapter endnotes for detailed content warnings (not much this chapter).

“I feel like something’s going on,” Kylo says, looking around. “This whole city is like ninety different block parties going on all at the same time. Maybe it’s a Burmese holiday?”

The small park that they had stumbled into is crowded with families and young couples, eating and chatting; everyone seems to have brought a boom box, and the air is a cacophony of dance music blaring in several languages. Nearby, a group of young women in identical dark-blue skirt suits are posing for photographs: they’re smiling and holding up their index fingers, which are stained with ink. Amidst the stalled, incessantly-honking traffic that surrounds the park, a group of people in red shirts and sarongs are dancing on the bed of a truck. The truck is blasting a stentorian message through an enormous megaphone mounted on the cab, adding to the general din.

“Maybe we should look it up,” Hux says uneasily. “Just in case today is - I don’t know - the day when all foreigners are supposed to stay indoors or something. I haven’t seen any other tourists since the airport.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Kylo says, but he pulls out his phone and begins poking at it. 

An old man pedaling slowly by on an ancient-looking bicycle stops to look them up and down. Hux eyes him anxiously. “American?” he asks them. Hux hesitates. 

“American!” Kylo responds immediately, looking up with a grin. “ _Mingala ba_!”

The old man looks pleased. “Obama!” he says. “Obama!”

Kylo laughs. “Obama!” he agrees. The old man gives them a thumbs-up and pedals squeakily away. Kylo glances at Hux. “See? It’s fine. He likes Obama. No need to worry.”

“I still want to know what’s going on.”

Kylo looks slightly sheepish. “So, uh,” he says, “don’t freak out, but apparently today is their Election Day.”

“Why would I freak out about that?” Kylo glances down at his phone and seems to be deciding what to say. “Let me see what you’re looking at!” 

Kylo hands over the phone, somewhat reluctantly. “I mean, okay, there is a State Department travel warning that says we shouldn’t be here,” he says, as Hux frantically scans through the open browser window, “but I really think it’s okay, everyone seems really happy and friendly - “

“This says there’s a high risk of civil unrest and inter-communal violence,” Hux says, looking up to glare at Kylo. “It’s the first general election since the end of military rule and they strongly recommend postponing non-essential travel. We are absolutely the definition of non-essential!”

“So, it’s cool, we’re getting to see history being made!” Kylo says, shrugging. “And don’t worry,” he adds, patting Hux’s shoulder, “ _I_ think you’re essential.”

Hux rolls his eyes and looks back at the phone. “Also, did you know that there’s an ongoing civil war in this country?”

“Oh yeah, I saw that,” Kylo says, “but it’s been going on since, like, World War II. And it’s only in some parts of the country, but not here.”

“Oh good,” Hux says sarcastically, “how reassuring. And there are land mines - more unexploded ordnance, wonderful. Just what I was hoping for.”

“Only in the parts of the country we’re not supposed to go to,” Kylo says. “Don’t stress.”

“I _will_ stress. One of us has to.” He looks down at the phone again. “‘Land mines and unexploded ordnance have injured foreign tourists in conflict-affected areas and their locations are often not marked or otherwise identifiable,’” he reads. “Lovely. I wonder what other warnings we should’ve been paying attention to in Laos and Thailand?”

“Oh no,” Kylo says, “now you’re going to start retroactively stressing about things that could’ve happened but didn’t?”

“Yes,” Hux says. He clicks on the travel-warning page for Laos. “I knew it!”

“What did you know?”

“That terrifying bus ride you made me go on! I knew it was dangerous, I just didn’t know why. But the State Department says that you shouldn’t ride those buses, because apparently sometimes people on them get randomly murdered by bandits.”

Kylo laughs. “I wish I’d known that when we were in Laos. I’d love to see a real live bandit.”

“I wouldn’t,” Hux says, grimly. 

“Do Thailand next,” Kylo suggests. “What did we almost die from in Thailand? Besides ghosts and monkey herpes?”

Hux clicks to the map of Thailand. “There’s an ongoing insurgency in the four southern provinces of Yala, Pattani, Narathiwat, and Songkhla,” he reports. “‘U.S. citizens are at risk of death or injury due to the possibility of indiscriminate attacks in public places. Martial law is in force in this region.’”

“Oh,” Kylo says, sounding rather disappointed. “I’m pretty sure we didn’t go to any of those places, but maybe we should go check them out if we go back through Thailand.”

“No thank you,” Hux says firmly. He looks around. The crowd of happy families that surrounds them has taken on a newly sinister aspect in Hux’s eyes. “Can we please just go back to the hotel? And watch the news to see if we need to leave?”

“But this is such a cool day to be part of,” Kylo protests. “Everyone seems so excited! I wonder who all these people are voting for? Maybe we could ask.”

“ _No._ Absolutely not.”

“Why don’t we get a snack and talk about it?” Kylo suggests, putting his arm around Hux’s waist. Hux twitches nervously away from him. “Look, that stall over there is selling things on sticks. I’ve never eaten anything off a stick that wasn’t delicious.”

“I’m sure they’ll still have food on sticks tomorrow.”

“Oh all right,” Kylo says, sounding disappointed, “even though it won’t be historic election-day stick food. Anyway, you know what’s one thing at least that you don’t need to worry about?”

“What?” Hux asks suspiciously. 

“You don’t need to stress about me wearing skirts anymore!”

That morning, as they packed to leave Luang Prabang, Hux had strongly suggested that Kylo should dress more conservatively, since they were headed to a new and unfamiliar country, but Kylo had refused. “My dick needs to breathe,” he announced, wrapping one of his skull-patterned sarongs around his waist. “It’s too hot for pants.”

“Is it too hot to not wear makeup?” Hux inquired, somewhat crossly, as Kylo pulled out a brush and began applying bruise-colored purplish eyeshadow in front of the bathroom mirror. 

“No, _I’m_ too hot to not wear makeup,” Kylo responded, airily. 

Hux sighed. Kylo was also wearing new earrings that he had purchased in Luang Prabang - silvery crescent moons, made from aluminum bomb casings. “Isn’t that rather macabre?” Hux had said, when Kylo was debating which pair to get.

“‘Rather macabre’ is kind of my whole deal,” Kylo responded. “Besides, it’s for a good cause.” He indicated a sign on the wall that said that proceeds from the earrings would be donated to a de-mining charity. “You should let me get you some too, you’d look great in jewelry.” 

“I’ve already made plenty of terrible decisions since I met you,” Hux said, “but one of them isn’t going to be letting you pierce my ears in a hotel room in Laos so that I can wear earrings made of bombs.”

Now Kylo gestures happily to the crowd. His new earrings poke through his shaggy hair, glittering in the sun. “Look how many men here are wearing skirts - I’ve never seen that before! This is so awesome.” He nods towards a group of men playing soccer on the other side of the field, with their sarongs tucked up between their legs. “Those guys have even figured out how to make sports sarongs, I’m so here for it.”

Hux opens his mouth to point out that none of the men in the crowd are wearing makeup or earrings, but then he notices three bored-looking teenage boys standing under a tree nearby - _possibly some sort of Burmese version of punk rockers_ , he thinks. In spite of the blistering heat, they’re wearing ripped leather jackets over their sarongs and tank tops; one has black makeup smeared haphazardly around his eyes, and two of the others have gauges in their ears. Hux shakes his head. “I’m glad you’ve finally found a place where you fit in.” 

“Me too,” Kylo says. “And look how cool - that building has trees growing out of the roof!” Hux glances up curiously at the building across the street - a majestic, many-towered confection of red brick and white stucco that seems to be badly in need of repairs. Large sections of it appear to be held up precariously by bamboo scaffolding. Green vegetation waves gaily from its upper stories. A large sign in front of the gate says DO NOT SPIT BETEL NUT. “This place has good energy, I can feel it.”

A man in a pickup truck honks at them, and Hux jumps. “Hey you!” the man shouts, smiling at them. “Obama!”

“Obama!” Kylo shouts back, waving to him happily.

***

“Oh no,” Kylo announces dramatically, “I can feel it working.” He’s lying sprawled on the bed in their hotel room, shirtless, legs spread; he’s still wearing his sarong, but only barely.

“What’s working?” Hux asks, glancing up from the square of fabric that he is attempting to embroider with a simple geometric pattern that he thought he had grasped during his lessons in Luang Prabang. It’s much more difficult without a teacher to guide him. “Have you figured out yet how that guy is making his drawing talk? And if you have, can we put the news back on?” 

They had attempted to find a TV station that could tell them what was going on outside, but the only news stations that were covering the election all seemed to be in Burmese. At some point during the search, Kylo had gotten distracted by a ventriloquist on a rerun of “Myanmar’s Got Talent,” and had insisted on watching the rest of the show.

“No, I still have no idea,” Kylo says. On the television, a man has just stripped off what appears to be a king’s costume, and begun doing energetic somersaults in a unitard. “What I mean is, I was just thinking - I know my mom was hoping that this trip would get me to be, like, interested in things. And it’s kind of working.”

“You’ve always been interested in lots of things,” Hux says. “Mainly blowjobs and ghosts. Is that not the sort of thing your mother had in mind?”

Kylo laughs. “No - I just mean, like, I only know that there’s a civil war going on in this country because we just saw it on the State Department website. And obviously I didn’t know there was going to be an election today.”

“So - what? Have you decided that your New Year’s resolution is to blunder into fewer war zones in 2016?” Hux asks. “I know mine will be.”

“Probably not,” Kylo says. “I like to keep things interesting. But I was actually kind of thinking this might be interesting stuff to study in college.” He sounds a bit sheepish, as if this is an embarrassing confession.

“That actually isn’t a terrible idea, for once,” Hux says, “although I’m not sure what sort of career you could make out of knowing things about Myanmar.” He considers. “You could work for the State Department, maybe. If you’re willing to follow a dress code.”

Kylo makes a face. “Ugh,” he says. “That’s the kind of thing the annoying douchebags at my high school in Virginia wanted to do. Like, the guys who wore pressed khaki pants and polo shirts to class.”

“I was wearing pressed khaki pants when you found me at the airport.” 

“I know,” Kylo says. “That’s one of the reasons I knew I needed to rescue you.” He rolls over to put his head in Hux’s lap. He nuzzles at Hux’s stomach, pressing his lips to the bare skin just below the edge of his shirt. Hux squirms.

“Watch out,” Hux says sternly. “You don’t want to get an embroidery needle to the eye.”

“Can’t you stop doing that for a little bit and make out with me?”

“No,” Hux says. “It’s helping me stay calm and focused while we don’t know what’s going on.” The honking and shouting from the streets has been continuous, but the narrow windows of their hotel room are frosted and locked shut, making it difficult to tell whether anything disturbing might be happening.

“Sucking your cock would help _me_ stay calm and focused,” Kylo argues. “Anyway, it sounds like they’re celebrating. I don’t think you need to worry.”

“You also thought all the election craziness was a block party,” Hux says. “I’m not sure I trust your assessment.”

“Well, even more reason for us to fuck, then,” Kylo suggests. “Don’t you want us to go out in a blaze of glory?”

“No, I don’t want us to go out in any kind of blaze,” Hux says, poking his needle firmly into the cloth. “I really don’t need any more excitement. After this trip is over I think I might just sit on the couch quietly for the rest of my life.”

“That’s too bad, I still have lots of exciting things I want to do with you,” Kylo says. He presses his face into Hux’s groin and inhales loudly. Hux concentrates on trying to keep his hands steady. “Mmm... could you do me a favor?”

“What?” Hux asks suspiciously. His last three stitches were backwards, he realizes. He begins trying to pick them out of the cloth.

“Could you put your combat boots back on?” Kylo asks, getting up to grab them from where Hux had left them lined up neatly by the door.

Hux sighs. “I told you, I want to try to finish this square first.”

“You can keep working on it! I mean, I actually want you to keep working on it. Just put your boots on? Please?”

“Why do you want me to wear combat boots while I work on embroidery?” Hux demands, but he reluctantly sets down his kit and begins pulling the boots on. “Are you afraid I’m going to stab myself in the foot? You’re like the world’s strangest workplace-safety inspector.”

Kylo laughs. “Just go back to what you were doing,” he says, kneeling down by the edge of the bed, between Hux’s legs. Hux tentatively picks up his embroidery again, keeping a wary eye on Kylo. “Yeah, just like that.”

“And what are you going to be doing down there?” Hux inquires.

“Don’t worry about it. Just ignore me.” He pulls Hux’s booted foot into his lap, pressing up against it with a sigh. “Mmm, yeah.”

Hux shakes his head. “Really, this is your new thing? You’re just going to rub off against my shoe while I do crafts? Really, you get more ridiculous every day. I think this may be a new low for you.”

“Keep talking,” Kylo pants. He pushes his face against the fly of Hux’s jeans; his breath is hot through the thick denim. Hux’s cock jerks under his lips. “You always smell so good.”

“You’re making it very difficult to concentrate,” Hux complains, squirming.

“Just ignore me,” Kylo says again, his voice ragged, as he grinds up against the heel of Hux’s boot. Hux lets out an irritated little sigh, trying to sound unaffected. “Fuck, you’re hot.” He tugs at the top button of Hux’s fly with his teeth, and Hux nearly puts his needle through his thumb. 

“What are you doing now?”

“Can I just, like, hold your cock in my mouth while I’m down here?” Kylo looks up at Hux through his disheveled hair.

“And you want me to ignore you while you do that?” Hux sputters, trying to resist the urge to grab Kylo by the hair and slide his cock into Kylo’s mouth immediately. “How is that supposed to work?”

“It’s called cock-warming,” Kylo says helpfully. He seems to have given up on unbuttoning Hux’s fly with his teeth; instead he flicks it open with his fingers and begins slowly pulling down Hux’s zipper. Hux’s cock throbs, trapped down the leg of his jeans. “I saw it on the Internet. It’s when - “

“I know what it is,” Hux snaps. “I don’t see how it could possibly work in real life. I don’t know how I’m supposed to just go about my business with my cock in your mouth.”

“Let’s try it and see,” Kylo suggests. He’s drawn Hux’s cock out of his fly now, and he leans forward to slide his full lips down over the head. 

Hux groans. His hips jerk involuntarily. He stares hard at his embroidery for a long moment, trying vainly to concentrate, then sets it aside. “You’re - you’re impossible,” he says. Kylo is just letting Hux’s cock rest in his mouth, not sucking; the soft, wet heat of it is an unbearable tease. “Fine - you’ve got what you wanted - I’m not ignoring you anymore. Go ahead and suck me.”

Kylo lets Hux’s cock slide slowly out of his mouth. “But I want you to ignore me,” he says, infuriatingly. He looks up at Hux, doe-eyed. “I think that would be so hot, if you just ignore me and do something else while I’m down here.” He takes Hux’s cock back into his mouth, pressing hard up against the sole of Hux’s boot as he does.

“Well, I’m sorry I can’t fulfill your fantasy,” Hux gasps, putting his hands over his face, “but you’re such a fucking tease - I can’t fucking focus like this - “ Kylo swallows around his cock, and Hux shudders. His boot shifts in Kylo’s lap, and Kylo whimpers in response. “You’re killing me here. Please just suck my cock?” Kylo hums indecisively. “Are you waiting for me to insult you some more? Is that what you want?”

“Maybe,” Kylo says indistinctly. He writhes happily under Hux’s boot.

“Fine! You’re - you’re pathetic, you have no self-control, rubbing off against my boot like - like an animal - you don’t even deserve to suck my cock, you’re lucky I even let you taste it, you’re - oh thank fucking god, finally,” Hux sputters, sliding his hands into Kylo’s hair and sighing with relief as Kylo finally begins sucking him hard.

***

Late that afternoon, they finally manage to find English-language coverage of the election. “Voters in Burma are going to the polls today for the first relatively free election in twenty-five years,” a BBC reporter announces, standing in front of a line of excited-looking people in red t-shirts. Several of them are waving at the camera. “Despite fears of election-related violence, the day has been mostly peaceful. Although the process was marred by the disenfranchisement of many Muslim voters, turnout has been very high, and the National League for Democracy is expected to win a majority of the votes.”

“See?” Kylo says. “I told you everything was going to be fine. We could’ve been out there seeing it all go down if you hadn’t been so worried.”

“The State Department was worried too,” Hux says. “And I’m sorry, but I’m going to go with their assessment over you just looking around and deciding that a place has ‘good energy.’”

On the television, the reporter continues: “Nevertheless, fears remain that the current military-backed government might throw out the results of the election and begin arresting opposition leaders, as they did after Aung San Suu Kyi’s landslide victory in 1990.”

“There you go,” Hux says, “it’s perfectly reasonable to be worried. The BBC is, too.”

“We’re not opposition leaders,” Kylo says impatiently, getting out of bed and wrapping his sarong around his waist again. “And I’m starving. I guess I can just go out and bring you back something to eat, if you’re really freaked out about this.”

“No, I’ll go with you,” Hux says, reluctantly, reaching for his discarded jeans. “I’d rather keep an eye on you now than have to bail you out of jail later.”

“That’s the spirit,” Kylo says, patting Hux’s ass affectionately as he pulls on his pants. 

“Anyway,” Hux says, “so what did you want to do in Myanmar besides eating food on sticks? Are there Burmese ghosts you want to see?”

“There’s tons of Burmese ghosts, but I’m having trouble figuring out where we should go to find them,” Kylo says, frowning. “Like, for example, apparently there’s supposed to be some kind of especially frightening ghost that haunts the bathrooms at girls’ boarding schools, but I feel like people might not appreciate it if we turned up there to look for it.” 

Hux laughs. “I’m glad to hear you have _some_ limits.”

“Oh - and apparently when they built the new capital city, in Naypyidaw,” Kylo goes on, “they had to hire a bunch of trucks to move the ghosts of Japanese soldiers who died during World War II, but I don’t know where they took them.”

“They had to use trucks to move the _ghosts_?” Hux asks, skeptically, as he follows Kylo out of their hotel room and steps gingerly into the stairwell. Their hotel is a tall and extremely narrow building on a crowded street in downtown Yangon, and the stairway to their room is so steep that their online reservation had came with a warning that the room was “only suitable for fit young people.” “Maybe your translation app is acting up again. I bet they just meant they had to move the bodies to a new cemetery.”

“No, this was in English! I read about this on the BBC,” Kylo insists. “They were really clear that it was the ghosts, not just the bodies. Apparently Burmese ghosts are really big and heavy, so only ten could fit inside a truck at a time. The article said that if too many ghosts got on the truck at the same time, it would start sinking into the mud.”

Hux laughs again. “If you say so,” he says. “Out of curiosity, how do you get a ghost to go onto a truck? Do you have to lure them in, or do they just like going for rides?”

“You have to hire a _natsaya_ ,” Kylo responds, as they step out into the hot, smoke-smelling evening. “A spirit medium. They know what to do. Unless the ghost is really angry - then you have to bring in Buddhist monks to help out. They had to do that at the cemetery in Naypyidaw because one of the ghosts was really pissed off and wouldn’t get out of this worker’s car. Buddhist monks are, like, the big guns when you’re dealing with ghosts, I guess.”

“I see,” Hux says. He looks warily up and down the street. The crowds of people and the stalled traffic have not diminished, but, even to Hux, the atmosphere feels festive. Strangers smile and wave when they meet Hux’s eyes. Music thumps out of every window. Down the street, neon lights are flashing around the entrance to a temple, as if it were a Buddhist-themed discotheque. “By the way, I love that before we came here you apparently made a point of looking up two different ways of dealing with an angry Burmese ghost, but neither of us thought to check for travel warnings here in the real world.”

“Hey, you have to have priorities,” Kylo says, grinning. He’s not looking at the sidewalk, and Hux grabs his arm to stop him from stepping into a large, sulfurous-smelling hole in the concrete. “Anyway, unfortunately, I don’t know if we’re going to be able to see Burmese ghosts - apparently they get scared off by Buddhist scriptures, and we’ve both got those tattooed on our backs now.”

“Oh no,” Hux says sarcastically, “how disappointing.”

“But it’s okay,” Kylo says, “because we can still go see Abraham.”

“Abraham?” Hux asks. “There’s a Burmese ghost named Abraham?”

Kylo laughs. “Oh no, he’s not a ghost, he’s a Jew.”

“In Yangon?” Hux says. “That’s actually more surprising than ghosts, I had no idea there were Jewish people here.”

“Well, there’s at least one,” Kylo says. “He gave my mom a tour of some historic synagogue when she was here with a congressional delegation last year. I sent him an email a few days ago and he told me he could set up, like, a whole Jewish-themed tour for us, like up to a week or ten days long.”

“So that’s what we’re doing in Myanmar?” Hux asks, apprehensively.

Kylo laughs again. “No, I just wanted to see that horrified expression on your face,” he says. “Doing too much Jewish stuff makes me antsy, anyway. I told him thank you but said that we didn’t have enough time for that. Anyway, he invited us to stop by the synagogue tomorrow morning, so I figured we could do that at least. It’ll make my mom happy.”

“Oh, okay, that’s fine,” Hux says, relieved.

“I see how it is,” Kylo says, elbowing him. “So an hour or two of Jewish stuff is okay, but a week would be craziness?”

“You’re the one who just said it makes you antsy,” Hux says, frostily. “Don’t make this my fault. Besides, Jewish or not, I don’t really want to have a tour guide with us the whole time - I don’t want to have to stress about, you know, what he thinks of us.”

“Why would you stress about that?” Kylo says. “You really need to stop worrying so much about what other people think.” Hux opens his mouth to point out that that’s easy for Kylo to say, with his wealthy, powerful family to back him, but Kylo is still talking. “And then after the synagogue I figure we can go see the Snake Buddha of Twante.”

“Oh no,” Hux groans. “I knew it was too good to be true - just a nice sedate tour of a historic synagogue. I should’ve known there would be snakes involved somewhere.” A hopeful thought occurs to him. “Or is the Snake Buddha just a statue of a snake?”

“I’m pretty sure there’s real snakes at the temple, that’s one of the reasons I want to go.”

Hux sighs. “Of course it is.”

Kylo squeezes his arm. “It’ll be okay,” he says. “Maybe when we get back we can go have high tea at the Strand Hotel. It’s fancy, you’ll like it.”

Hux shakes his head. 

***

“This _is_ nice,” Hux says, the following afternoon, as he settles into a leather club chair with a little sigh of relief. The Strand’s main bar is high-ceilinged and teak-accented, and smells rather pleasantly of cigars. Outside, beyond a busy street, the Irrawaddy River churns muddily by. “I need it, after the day I’ve had.”

Kylo laughs. “Was it really that bad? You were such a good student at the synagogue, asking all those questions about the photographs and whatever. I think Abraham was pretty disappointed that the nice Jewish lady politician’s son was me instead of you.”

“That part of today was fine,” Hux allows. The synagogue had actually been rather lovely - a peaceful blue-and-white oasis on a chaotic downtown street. Outside, an enormous swarm of pigeons had gathered around a woman who was feeding them; they swooped past Hux’s head like a windstorm of dirty wings. Inside, it was quiet and sunlit and smelled like old wood. A raised platform in the center of the sanctuary was decorated with sparkling ornaments of glass and gold.

Abraham, who was elderly and bespectacled and beaming, seemed rather alarmed by Kylo’s appearance at first glance, but said nothing about it. He also seemed bemused by Kylo’s attempt at a polite _wai_ greeting, with his hands pressed together in front of his chest - “Have you just come from Thailand?” he asked. 

“Yes, we were there for a couple of weeks,” Hux said.

“Ah, that explains it,” he said, smiling. “Burmese people do like that to show respect to monks and teachers, that sort of person. Not for ordinary people.”

He ushered them into the sanctuary and offered them tea and sweet buns, inquiring politely about their trip and about Kylo’s mother. Kylo was uncharacteristically monosyllabic in response, possibly because Abraham kept addressing him as “Benjamin.” Hux glanced curiously at Kylo, debating how much effort he should put into pretending that he hadn’t already googled Kylo’s legal name. An awkward silence descended. 

“So, I was wondering - when did the first Jews come to Myanmar?” Hux asked, eventually, mostly for the sake of having something to say. 

Abraham seemed positively delighted by the question. “Most of us came in the British times,” he said, “but before that there was even a Jewish commander in the army of King Alaungpaya!” He paused, as if to give them time to process this astonishing fact.

“That’s amazing,” said Hux, who had never heard of King Alaungpaya. Next to him, Kylo snickered. Hux elbowed him sharply.

“It is,” Abraham agreed, smiling at Hux. “The rest of us came mostly from Baghdad and British India, to Burma. There used to be quite a community. At one time, in Yangon and Pathein, they even had Jewish mayors!” He paused again, apparently for effect, his eyes round behind his glasses. 

“Wow,” Hux said politely. He glanced at Kylo, who seemed to be repressing some sort of spasm.

“Of course, that was a long time ago,” the old man said, with a sigh. He sipped his tea. “Now there are only seven of us left - even my own daughters have gone to Israel. There are one hundred and thirty-five ethnic groups in Myanmar, and we are the one hundred and thirty-sixth. The smallest one.” He looked up and laughed, as if this were an amusing joke. Hux smiled uncertainly.

“What happened to all the other Jews who used to be here?” Kylo asked, sounding interested for the first time. “Did the military government go after them?”

“Oh no, no,” Abraham said hastily, looking alarmed again. He glanced around, as if he were afraid that someone in the empty sanctuary might have overheard Kylo. “The Jews here have never been persecuted. Not for being Jewish. But so many fled the Japanese, during the war. My family stayed.” He got up to get a black-and-white photograph from a table. “Look, here is U Nu, the first president of Burma, in Israel! He was always a friend to the Jewish people. He even stood up to the Soviet Union. He told them they should let the Jews go.” 

“That’s great,” Hux said, since Abraham seemed to be waiting for some sort of a response. “I didn’t know that.”

“Of course, they didn’t listen to him,” the old man said, with another sigh. “They told him if he didn’t stop bothering them about the Jews they’d kick him out.” 

Kylo laughed. Both Hux and Abraham frowned at him. 

“Anyway,” Abraham resumed brightly, “now we have democracy again, like in U Nu’s time, maybe the Jewish people will come back. We can hope. Tourists, at least - they will come. We hope.”

***

“Yeah, that was pretty interesting,” Kylo says now, as the uniformed waiter brings over two teapots and a silver tray of sandwiches and shrimp skewers. “It’s just another thing that makes me feel like maybe I should try to actually learn some of the history here.”

“Really?” Hux says. “Then why were you being such a dick the whole time we were there? You acted like you were being dragged along on a boring school trip.”

“Sorry,” Kylo says, looking a bit sheepish. “I don’t know. Being in synagogues, being around old Jewish people, always kind of makes me want to throw something. I don’t know why.”

“You’re so strange,” Hux says. “A Buddhist monk can tell you to sit silently on a hard floor all day and you’re all over it, but you can’t make polite conversation for an hour with someone from your own religion?”

“I’m ethnically Jewish, okay, but it’s not really my religion,” Kylo says impatiently. “And, yeah. I don’t know. Going to other people’s religious events is interesting and different, you know? Like, you’re seeing a different world. But being around Jewish people for too long makes me feel like I’m being closed in a box. Especially like that guy, like, he was totally judging me - he obviously thought it was ridiculous that I want to be called Kylo.” Kylo eyes Hux warily. “I guess you probably think it’s ridiculous too.”

Hux shrugs. “A lot of things about you are ridiculous,” he says. “Your name doesn’t even make the top ten, really.” 

Kylo laughs, looking relieved. He strokes Hux’s hand under the table. “I guess it’s kind of like with that Hmong lady on the bus in Laos, the one who didn’t want to talk to me. Remember?”

“Oh yes, that poor woman,” Hux says. “The one you wouldn’t stop bothering.”

As they traveled from the Plain of Jars to Luang Prabang, their bus had stopped suddenly on a desolate mountain road to pick up a young woman in jeans and a North Face jacket who had flagged it down. When she boarded, she addressed the driver at first in hesitant Lao, then switched to very American-sounding English when he didn’t seem to understand her.

“Hey!” Kylo said to her, cheerfully, when she sat down behind them. “Are you backpacking here too? What’s out this way?” 

“I’m here studying, actually,” she said, looking him over warily. “I have relatives out here.”

“Oh cool - what are you studying?”

“You’ll think it’s stupid,” she said, pulling on her headphones.

“No, I won’t, I promise,” Kylo said. “Now I’m really interested.”

“Well,” she said reluctantly, “my family in Minneapolis paid for me to come so that I could - so I could study to become a shaman.” She looked at him as if she were daring him to laugh.

“That’s amazing,” Kylo said eagerly. “I wish I could do that. What’s the training like? How’s it going?”

She grimaced. “Not well,” she said. “It’s really hard.”

“Oh,” Kylo said. “Do they ever let outsiders study? Or do you have to be Lao?”

“You have to be _Hmong_ ,” she said, beginning to sound annoyed. She turned on her music - they could hear it pounding through her headphones - and turned to face the window. 

Kylo looked deflated. He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but Hux elbowed him sharply. “Leave her alone,” he whispered. “She probably thinks you’re hitting on her.” 

“But I’m not hitting on her,” Kylo whispered back. “I just want to become a shaman.”

“Well, you heard her, you can’t. So shhh.”

Kylo glanced at the girl hopefully a few more times as the long ride continued, but she resolutely ignored him.

“Yeah, her,” Kylo says now. “Like, I wish my family would send me to study to become a shaman, that sounds amazing, but she seemed like she was having a rough time. I guess it’s always harder when it’s your own heritage you’re dealing with.”

Hux sighs. “I suppose all this means you probably don’t ever want to go back to Israel. Maybe I’ll go on my own at some point.”

“No, we could go,” Kylo says. “Like I said before, I’m sure it’d be more fun with you. It was going with Birthright Israel that just made me want to fight everyone. They’re so - provincial, you know? Like, everything has to be about Jews and only Jews. Once during the trip I said something about wanting to learn Japanese and three of them were, like, ‘Why don’t you learn Hebrew instead? Why don’t you want to learn your own people’s language?’” He flaps his hands irritably. “‘My own people’ - I mean, no one in my family ever even spoke Hebrew. My great-grandparents spoke Yiddish and Russian. And besides, they don’t make anime in Hebrew.”

Hux laughs at this unexpected conclusion. “Yes, they do,” he says, mostly to be contrary. “I once saw a very good animated movie in Hebrew. It was about the Lebanon war. We watched it in Social Studies.”

Kylo snorts. “That’s not anime,” he says scornfully. “And even if you want to call it anime, okay, so there’s one depressing anime movie about war in Hebrew. I think my point stands.”

“Besides,” Hux goes on, “I’m sure regular Israelis aren’t like that. The stuff you’re complaining about - that was probably just Birthright Israel, like you said.”

Kylo shrugs. “I guess. I mean, why do you want to go so bad?” He grins. “Because of the hot guys?”

A delegation of handsome Israeli soldiers who had come to his father’s house for dinner when Hux was fourteen had, in fact, made a strong impression on Hux, but he doesn’t want to give Kylo the satisfaction of being right about something. “Mostly because of the history, I suppose,” Hux says loftily, tilting his nose upwards. “My father was always talking about the Six-Day War and the tank battles during the Yom Kippur War and so on. It’d be really interesting to see.” Kylo looks deeply unconvinced. “Also, there probably won’t be any snake temples for you to drag me to in Israel. I’ll finally be safe.”

Kylo laughs. “Was the snake temple really so terrible? I thought it was so cool.”

“It wasn’t so much the temple that was the problem as the ride there,” Hux says, with a grimace. 

The temple was across the river from downtown Yangon, and the ferry ride had been pleasant enough - a gently-rocking journey across the wide brown Irrawaddy. But the motorcycle taxis to the temple were an entirely different experience. Hux had climbed on nervously behind his driver - a stolid middle-aged man in a white dress shirt and a tan-colored sarong - and he was still trying to figure out where to put his hands when the man hit the gas and rocketed out of the parking lot so quickly that Hux nearly fell off the back end. By the time they reached the temple he was clinging to his driver as if they were in love. “I’ve seen ambulances that didn’t go that fast. Maybe he thought we were having some kind of Snake Buddha-related emergency.”

Kylo laughs again. “Yeah, you know, I saw your face and I tried to get him to slow down, but I don’t know if he even heard me. When we stopped I googled how to say ‘slow’ in Burmese, but Google Translate is buggy as hell in Burmese, and my translation app doesn’t work here. So I was yelling, like, ‘nay nay’ at him, but who knows what that actually means? Maybe he thought I was trying to get him to dance.”

“Oh, is that what you were shouting?” Hux says. “I didn’t even hear you; I was too busy trying not to die.”

“Well, good thing I made offerings to the Snake Buddha for both of us, then, that probably kept us safe,” Kylo says. 

The Snake Buddha had revealed itself to be a large, somnolent python, which was curled into a neat package at the foot of a tree in the center of the temple when they arrived. A few smaller snakes, possibly the Snake Buddha’s friends or relations, were sleeping in corners. To Kylo’s obvious delight, an attendant invited Kylo to give his donation directly to the Snake Buddha. Kylo stroked the python’s smooth skin with one finger as he tucked a five-thousand _kyat_ note into the curve of its tail. 

“No thank you,” Hux said firmly, as Kylo offered him a second five-thousand _kyat_ note, presumably for the snake. “Did you know you can get salmonella poisoning from touching reptiles? You’d better go wash your hands as soon as we leave.”

“Don’t insult the Snake Buddha,” Kylo said, frowning at Hux. Kylo patted the snake affectionately, as if to apologize for Hux’s rudeness, as he delivered the second offering on Hux’s behalf.

Now, Hux rolls his eyes. “If you say so. I think a better way for us to stay safe would be to avoid motorcycle taxis in the future.” He takes a sip of his tea. “I saw on the State Department’s website that motorcycles are the leading cause of death for Americans in Thailand.”

“You and that State Department website,” Kylo groans. “Motorcycles are such a great way to get around in Southeast Asia! I was actually just looking to see if we could rent motorcycles here, so that we could drive ourselves, but apparently in Myanmar foreigners aren’t allowed to drive anything with an engine.”

Hux cocks his head curiously. “So - what? We can only rent ox-carts or something?”

Kylo laughs. “Maybe I should check on that - that would be an awesome way to see the country, honestly. But no. Like, you can rent a bicycle, or else you have to hire a car with a driver. Apparently it’s because they don’t want tourists to accidentally blunder into the conflict zones.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” Hux says, taking a bite of a tiny cucumber sandwich. “Given your track record, you would definitely wind up driving us into the middle of a battle. And then you’d probably be, like, ‘this is so cool, it’s so historic, this place has good energy, let’s go look for ghosts!’ And then we’d end up _becoming_ ghosts and I’d be pissed at you forever in the afterlife.”

Kylo laughs again. “Hey, you’re the one who was just saying that you want to go see where the Six-Day War happened or whatever,” he says, poking Hux’s knee. “I’m surprised you’re not jumping at the chance to see an actual war live and in-person.”

“Yes, no thank you, I’m not an idiot,” Hux says, just as the waiter arrives with a three-tiered silver stand full of tiny deserts. He sets it in the center of the table with a flourish of his white gloves.

“Better watch out, it’s your old nemesis,” Kylo says, through a mouthful of shrimp. He points at a familiar white sweet wrapped in a green leaf. “Try not to eat the banana leaf this time.”

“Fuck off,” Hux says, swatting at Kylo’s shoulder. 

Kylo grabs his wrist and kisses the palm of his hand. Hux glances around uncomfortably, but no one seems to be looking at them. “That’s okay,” Kylo says, winking at Hux. “I know telling me to fuck off is really just your way of saying that you love me.”

“Oh, is it now,” Hux says, trying to frown, but not quite succeeding. His face feels hot. “I had no idea.”

“You’re blushing!” Kylo says, looking pleased. “I knew it.”

“Hmmph,” Hux responds, addressing himself determinedly to the dessert tray. 

***

“Hux?”

Hux struggles slowly up out of a dream that had sucked him under - something about dark water and horrible shining things with sharp teeth. For a moment it’s hard to breathe. “What?”

“Are you awake?”

“I am now,” Hux says. “Is something wrong?”

“Not really, sorry - I heard you say something, but I guess you were talking in your sleep,” Kylo says. He’s quiet for a moment, breathing against Hux’s back. “It’s just - do you ever worry about what’s going to happen when we go home?”

Hux blinks. “You mean when we go back to the U.S. and I’m a homeless high-school dropout with no money?”

“Okay, I guess that was a stupid question,” Kylo says. “Anyway, I keep telling you, you don’t have to be any of that. Even if you don’t want to be with me anymore, I’m pretty sure my mom wants to adopt you.”

Hux squeezes Kylo’s hand silently. “Anyway,” he says, “what’s brought this on? What are you worrying about?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Kylo says. “Nothing like what you’re up against, obviously. It’s just, like - things have been so good here, you know? But I feel like once we stop traveling the music’s going to stop and everything will be awful again.”

“You don’t ever have to go back to high school, you know.” _Unlike me, probably_ , Hux thinks, suppressing a sigh.

“I know. But I have to go back to being me, you know? Like, I used to have days when I couldn’t get out of bed. Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, but sometimes I didn’t shower for, like, days. A week.”

“Well, I’ll make sure you take showers,” Hux says firmly. That, at least, sounds like a problem that he has the capability to solve. “Personal hygiene is very important to me.”

Kylo hugs Hux tightly from behind. “So you’re saying that you’ll be there?”

“Where else would I be?” Hux asks, slightly alarmed. “You just said I could stay with you when we get back, right?”

“Yeah. I keep telling you that. But you never actually say whether or not that’s what you want to do.”

“Of course I want to stay with you,” Hux says. “What, did you think I would rather be out on the street?”

Kylo laughs. “I mean, that’s not the most romantic way to say you want to move in with me, but I guess I’ll take it.”

“Sorry,” Hux says. “I - well, I do, really. I want to.” _Not only because I have nowhere else to go_ , he thinks. “And I’ll find a way to pay you back for all of this eventually.”

Kylo stirs restlessly against him. “That’s not how this works,” he says impatiently. “You’re my boyfriend, not, like, one of my dad’s sketchy business associates who needs a loan. Besides, I already told you, when we first met. You know - that this was my destiny, the purpose of me, to be there when you needed help.”

“Oh no, don’t start that again,” Hux says, but he curls back more tightly against Kylo’s body, hugging Kylo’s arm to his chest.

“I never actually stopped.” 

“I know,” Hux says. “That’s definitely one of those top-ten most ridiculous things about you that we were talking about earlier.”

“Mmm, you like it,” Kylo says, kissing the back of Hux’s neck. Hux squirms a little as the stubble around Kylo’s lips rasps at the sensitive skin. “Speaking of which, can I suck your cock? I feel like that might help me calm down.”

Hux laughs. “Sure,” he says, rolling obligingly onto his back and folding his arms under his head. “That, I can do for you.”

“Thank you,” Kylo says, very sincerely, sliding down between Hux’s spread legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings: there’s some discussion of Burmese history, the 2015 election, and the ongoing Burmese civil war, but no disturbing details. This story takes place before the most recent persecution of the Rohingya began (and that issue is only very obliquely referenced), but it could possibly be triggering for anyone who has related trauma. 
> 
> Also, Kylo expresses some negative/conflicted feelings about his Jewish identity and about other Jews, but not (I think) to the point of requiring a tag for anti-Semitism. He also refers to his struggles with depression and his fear that his depression will recur when he goes home.
> 
> Other than that, I think this chapter is relatively mild. Hux steps on Kylo’s dick again, but if you’ve made it this far presumably you’re okay with that. 😂


End file.
